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MOROREO 


i(  •  •  and  •  • 


H119DE5RANO. 


i 


A  BOOK  OF  TRAGEDIES 


BY 

WILLIAM  WILFRED  CAMPBELL, 

(Author  of  "The  Dread  Voyage,"  "Lake  Lyrics.") 


OTTAWA  : 

J.  DURIE  &  SON 

1895. 


2024 


C^/ 


..,    -'i^Sfr    ,i   .'.H.     \*.i,r  ■    ■««.  ' 


^d 


*        r         '^^-  li.  isJ 


■'    :€:  'Q-  SI  :P* 


.»*»i.'      v*--. 


TO  MY   FRIENDS. 
,,^  THE    HONOURABLE    J.    C.    PATTERSON, 


AND 


THE    HONOURABLE    A.    R.    DICKEY, 

THIS   BOOK   OF   TRAGEDIES 
IS    DEDlCATfeB. 


Entered  aceording  ta  the  Act  of  the  Parliament  of  Catuida  in-  the  year  one 
thousand  eight  Hundred'  and'  ninety-five,  by  William  Wilfred'  Campbell,  Ottawa, 
in  the  office  of  the  Minister  of  Agriculture^,  at  Ottawa. 


printed  bv 
Paynter  &  Abbott, 

48   RiOEAU    ST. 


MORDRED. 


A    TRAGEDY    IN    FIVE    ACTS. 


FOUNDED  ON  THE  ARTHURIAN  LEGEND 

OF 

SIR  THOMAS   MALORY. 


(This  Drama  was  written  in  July  and  August,  1893.) 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 

Arthur,   King  of  Britain. 

MoRDRED,  Illegitimate  Son  of  Atthur. 

Sir  Launcelot. 

Merlin. 

Sir  Gwaine. 

King  Leodegrance,   Father  to  Guinevere. 

Sir  Agravaine. 

Sir  Mador. 

Sir  Bedivere. 

Dagonet,  the  king's  jester. 

A  Hermit. 

Guinevere,  Queen  of  Britain. 

Vivien. 

Elaine,  a  maiden  who  loves  Launcelot. 

Unid,  a  lady  in  waiting  on  the  Queen. 

Knights,  gentlemen,  ladies,  soldiers,  herdsmen, 
messengers  and  pages. 


MOR  DRED 


ACT.  I. 
SCENE  I.— A  Hermitage  tn  the  Woods, 

Enter  Arthur,  Launcelot  ahd  other  Knights. 

Lanncelot.     Here  is  a  place  of  prayer,  we  will  alight, 
And  rest  a  space  and  think  us  of  our  sins. 

Arthur.     Launcelot,  and  were  I  shrived  and  clean 
Half  hell  itself  were  loosened  of  its  pains. 

Launcelot,     Arthur,  friend  and  lover  of  my  youth, 
Could'st  thou  but  throw  this  black  mood  from  ihee  now. 
And  get  a  sweeter  hope  into  thy  soul. 
Drive  out  the  horrid  phantoms  of  the  past,  ■'-' 

And  it  were  hope  for  Britain.     Well  thou  knowest  '* 

Men  look  to  thee  to  succor  this  poor  land 
Enrent  by  inward  brawls  and  foreign  hordes,  '; 

Whose  fields  untilled,  and  vanished  the  smoke  of  homes. 
It  hath  been  said  that  thou  would'st  raise  once  more 
Out  ot  these  ruins  a  kingdom  whose  great  fame  >  1/ 

Would  ring  for  ages  down  the  days  of  earth. 
And  be  a  glory  in  men's  hearts  forever. 

S^Passes  to  the  left. 

Arthur.  Launcelot,  well  know  I  thy  love  for  Arthur. 
'Tis  thy  sweet,  manly  kinship  of  the  hearjt. 
Opening  thy  spirit's  windows  toward  the  sun, 
Hath  made  my  dark  days  lighter.     Would  that  I 
Had  kept  me  holy,  innocent  as  thee. 
I  might  in  kinder  fate  have  made  this  land 
A  place  where  holiness  and  peace' might  dwell, 
And  such  a  white  and  lofty  honor  held 
Before  men's  eyes,  that  all  the  world  would  come 


a  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

And  worship  manhood's  beauty  freed  from  sin.  - 

Such  dreams  have  haunted  me  from  my  first  youth, 

In  fitful  slumbers  or  long  marching  hours.  '.,   V 

These  lonesome  lofty  vigils  of  the  heart 

Have  made  men  deem  me  colder.     'Tis  my  sin  ! 

Oh  Launcelot  I  am  blacker  than  thou  knowest ! 

[Exit  Launcelot. 

Enter  Hermit. 

Hermit  And  comest  thou,  my  son,  for  Church's  grace  ? 

Arthur.  I  come  here,  Father,  for  to  have  me  shrived. 

[^rCneeis. 

Hermit.  Then  thou  art  shriven,  such  a  noble  face 
Could  never  harbor  evil  in  its  grace.   " 

[^Lifts  his  hands  in  blessing. 

Arthur.  Stay  holy  Hermit,  fair  trees  rot  at  heart, 
And  I  am  evil  if  this  world  holds  ill. 
I  would  lay  bare  my  soul  of  its  foul  sin, 
And  if  there  be  white  shrift  for  such  as  me 
In  Heaven's  mercy,  I  would  crave  it  now ; 
Though  little  of  hope  have  I,  if  thou  dost  hear. 

Hermit.  Wouldst  thou  confess,  my  son,  the  church  hath 
To  white  the  blackest  sinner  crawling  foul  [power 

From  earth's  most  sensuous  cesspool,  doth  he  but 
Come  in  the  earnest  sorrow  ot  his  heart 
And  lay  his  sins  within  her  holy  keeping. 
But  well  I  know  that  thou  art  that  great  Arthur, 
The  hope  of  all  for  succor  to  this  realm  : — 
For  other  man  hath  never  worn  such  grace 
And  nobleness  of  bearing  as  thou  wearest. 
Fear  not  my  son,  whatever  be  the  sin    . 
Of  thy  hot  youth,  the  past  will  be  forgiven, 
And  holy  Church  will  freely  pardon  one 
And  all  the  evil  deeds  that  thou  hast  done. 

Arthur.  Father,  my  life  is  haunted  with  one  thought 
That  comes  between  me  and  my  sweetest  hofjes. 


SC.  1.]  V^^  ^         MORDRED.  ' 


In  battle's  clamor  only  will  it  pass, 

But  in  my  lonlier  moments  it  comes  in  ;  — 

The  awful  memoiy  of  one  heinous  sin.  ;^  a*^  5^1 

Hermit.  Of  truth  thou  hast  suffered  over  much,  my  son. 
What  is  thy  sin  ? 

Arthur,  One  deed  beyond  all  others  of  my  youth. 
Mad  passionate  and  wild  to  savagery, 
I  violated  a  maid's  sanctuary,  ,  ., 

And  afterwards,  I  f()und,—  O  Christ  forgive  me  !    ^^^, 

Hermit.  Say  on  !  -  >  s^*' 

.     Arthur.  She  was  my  sister  !  ^'^''^M'Uy'C''X:'- 

Hermit.  Sancta  Maria— Ora  pro  nobis  !         '■■^'^'-  ''^::m-. 

. '  '■  '•«•,.- 

Arthur.  It  will  not  out.     The  evil  of  that  night  - 

When  I,  unknowing,  did  that  awful  deed. 
Hath  blackened  all  my  future  like  a  web. 
And  when  men  look  up  to  me  as  their  sun, 
It  makes  my  life  seem  like  some  whited  tower. 
Where  all  is  foul  and  hideous  hid  within. 

Hermit.  Thou  sayest  truth,  my  son,  thy  sin  be  heavy. 

[Crossing  himself. 

Arthur  Oh  swart,  incestuous  night  whose  bat-like  wings 
O'er-spread  my  life  like  thunder-gathering  cloud. 
When  will  thy  dawn  break  glimmering  on  my  soul  ? 
Or  wilt  thou  drag  thy  weary  length  along 
And  spell  thy  moments  out  in  hopeless  years 
Until  thy  black  o'er-laps  the  black  of  death 
In  that  dread  journeying  where  all  men  go. 
When  all  my  dreams  are  spent  and  smouldered  down 
Like  some  far  ruined  sunset  at  life's  ebb. 
And  hope  deferred  fades  out  in  endless,  sleep  ? 
O  holy  man  forgive  mine  impious  presence. 
Thy  blessed  office  naught  availeth  me. 

Hermit.  Nay  son  grieve  not  as  one  who  hath  no  hope. 
Though  awsome  be  this  youthful  sin  of  thine, 
Whose  memory  blurs  thy  loftier,  holier  dreams. 
Let  not  this  one  sin  lead  thee  to  blaspheme 


4  '  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

Thus  ignorantly  holy  Church's  power. 

Thy  very  sorrow  half  absolveth  thee. 

In  name  of  Him  who  blessed  the  dying  thief, 

I  bid  thee  look  no  longer  at  thy  past. 

Which  eateth  like  some  canker  at  "hy  heart, 

Redeem  thy  past  in  deeds  of  future  good ; 

Deem'st  thy  high  dreams  were  given  thee  for  nought  ? 

There  is  a  noble  doom  about  thy  face, 

A  writing  writ  of  God  that  telleth  me  '   '  ' 

That  thou  art  not  a  common  ordered  man, 

But  one  ordained  as  holy  ones  of  old 

For  some  great  lofty  cause.     Lift  up  thy  heart, 

Earth  hath  a  need  of  thee,  thy  people  call. 

Wrongs  long  unrighted,  evils  long  unplucked, 

AH  cry  to  thee  for  judgment.     Palsy  not 

The  strength  of  ttiy  great  future  brooding  on 

An  indiscretion  of  thy  savage  past. 

Arthur,  And  is  it  of  God,  Oh  !  Father,  thinkest  thou  ? 

Hermit.  Yea  my  son  ; 
As  are  all  hope  and  sunshine.   What  is  life — 
But  spring  unmindful  of  bleak  winter-time, 
Joying  in  living,  mindless  of  old  death  ; 
Youth  dead  to  sorrow,  age  to  coming  night. 
Look  up,  forget  thine  evil,  drink  new  faith 
From  this  glad  parable  of  the  awakening  year. 
The  church's  arms  are  round  thee,  build  new  hope 
In  this  poor  Kingdom  as  the  quickening  year 
Hath  made  this  wrinkled  earth  forget  old  sorrows ; 
Be  this  but  thine  to  do,  and  thou  art  pardoned. 

Arthur.  Oh  !  blessed  be  thy  counsel,  even  now 
Ifeel  new  joys  run  riot  in  my  heart. 
Old  hopes  long  faded  built  on  my  high  dreams  ! 
The  old  d^ead  sorrow  lightens,  it  is  gone, 
And  I  go  forth  a  shrived  soul  even  now. 
Yea,  hear  me  Father,  now  I  consecrate 
This  my  poor  life  to  this  great  kingdom's  weal. 
And  be  my  God  but  with  me,  I  will  raise 


SC,  II.]  MORDRED.  5 

This  head  of  sorrows  out  of  clouds  of  ill,  ;  :    /      . 

And  build  a  splendor  of  my  chastened  will. 
Thy  blessing  Father ! 

Hermit.  {Raises  his  hand  in  blessing.)    Go  forth    from 
Great  Arthur  keei)er  of  ihy   people's  peace.  [hence 

Go  forth  to  right  all  wrong  and  guard  all  right. 
In  home  and  mart,  in  castle  and  in  cot, 
Meting  the  same  to  high  and  lowlv  lot. 
Go  forth  in  name  of  God  to  build  a  realm 
Built  up  on  chastity  and  noble  deeds, 
Where  womanhood  is  gentle  and  austere,    ' 
And  manhood  strong  in  its  great  innocence. 
Go,  blessed  of  God  and  all  thy  fellow  men, 
Go  in  the  strength  of  thy  most  high  resolve. 
Thou  wondrous  soul  unto  thy  wondrpus  work, 
The  glory  of  all  the  after  days  to  be. 

Arthur.  Amen  !  Amen  ! ! 


SCENE  II. — Camelot.     ( Arthur  crowned  king.) 

Enter  Merlin  and  Mordred,  a  hunchback^  the  Kings 
illegitimate  son.  Outside  a  great  clamor  of  voices  is 
heard  of  "Arthur  !    Long  live  King  Arthur." 

Meriiji.  Now  tarry  here  aside  while  I  prepare 
The  king  for  this  thy  filial  audience. 

Mordred.  O  mighty  Merlin,  I  fear  me  all  thine  arts 
That  compass  ocean,  air,  and  deepest  mine, 
And  have  command  of  subtlest  sciences, 
Have  never  found  the  power  to  brew  a  charm, 
A  Sovereign  draught  of  distillation  rare, 
To  warm  a  Father's  heart  toward  such  as  me. 

Merlin.  Thou  much  mistakest  Mordred,  he  is  noble. 
This  too-long  thought  on  thine  infirmity, 
Hath  made  thy  mind,  which  is  as  clear  as  glass, 
Ensickly  all  things  that  it  looks  upon. 


6  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

When  Arthur,  thy  great  father,  knows  his  son, 
His  nobleness  ot  heart  will  plead  with  him, 
And  when  he  sees  what  I  have  seen  in  thee, 
A  subtle  greatness  of  the  inner  spirit. 
Greater  than  even  1,  wise  Merlin,  have, 
That  prophesies  a  power  for  good  or  ill 
Such  as  is  rare  mid  men  in  this  our  age. 
He  will  forget  that  outward  lack  of  mould 
In  the  strong,  god-like,  nobleness  within. 

Mofdred^  Ah  Merlin,  would  my  spirit  thou  wert  right, 
And  I  would  show  him  such  a  son's  true  love, 
And  consecrate  this  subtlety  within  me, 
To  build  a  fence  of  safety  round  his  glory. 
But  something  tells  me,  some  weird,  evil  doom, 
That  sits  about  my  heart  by  day  and  night, 
An  awful  presence  that  will  never  flit, 
That  he  will  never  love  me,  yea,  that  more, 
Of  all  things  hateful  to  him  on  this  earth, 
My  presence  the  most  hateful.   Oh  great  Mage, 
I  know  that  thou  art  skilful  in  thine  age. 
And  subtle  in  all  knowledges  of  lore. 
But  there  lies  in  recesses  of  the  heart,    ' 
That  hath  known  bit*er  sorrow  such  as  mine, 
A  deeper  wisdom  intuition  breeds. 
That  thou  hast  never  sounded  in  thy  lore. 

Merlin.  Hast  thou  ever  seen  this  presence  whereof  thou 

[speakest  ? 

Mordred.  Yea,  only  as  a  look  that  haunteth  faces. 

Metlin.  Faces  ? 

Mordred.  I  never  saw  it  in  my  poor  dog's  face. 
When  he  hath  climbed  my  knees  to  lick  my  hand. 
I  never  saw  it  in  the  mirrored  peace 
That  brims  the  beauty  of  a  forest  pool  ; — 
Nor  in  the  wise  regard  of  mighty  nature. 
But  in  the  face  of  man  I  oft  have  seen  it. 

Merlin.  What  hast  thou  seen,  this  wisdom  would  I  know? 


SC.  II,]  MORDRED.  7 

Mordred.  I  never  saw  it  in  thy  look,  O  Mage, 
But  something  sweeter,  much  akin,  called  pity, 
But  once  I  woke  a  flower-eyed  little  maid, 
Who  slumbered  'mid  the  daisies  by  a  stream  ; 
She  seemed  the  summer  day  incarnate  there 
With  her  sweet,  innocent,  unconscious  face. 
So  like  a  flower  herself  amid  the  flowers  ; 
And  I  were  lonely  there  in  all  that  vast, 
And  thinking,  ('twas  only  but  a  boy's  light  thought, 
With  some  deep,  other  thought  beyond  mine  age,) 
To  wake  this  human  summer-morn  to  life, 
And  know  this  June-day  conscious  of  its  joy : 
But  when  I  bent  and  touched  her  on  the  arm, 
I  only  woke  a  living  terroi  there 
Of  eyes  and  limbs  that  fled  from  my  amaze. 
I  saw  It  once  within  the  Priestman's  face 
The  only  and  the  last  time  I  was  shriven. 
I  have  no  need  for  shriving  priestmen  since. 
My  spirit  tells  me  if  they  hold  no  power 
To  conjure  out  that  devil  in  themselves. 
That  darting  horror  that  offends  mine  eyes. 
They  ne'er  can  cast  the  devils  trom  this  life, 
And  all  their  ^unts  but  jugglers'  juggling;  lies. 

Merlin,  Oh  sad,  warped  youth^  aged  before  thy  time, 
With  that  worst,  saddest  of  wisdonis  on  this  earth, 
The  knowledge  of  thine  own  deformity  ! 

\trumpets  without 

Back  Mordred  !  here  cometh  the  king  ! 

Enter  Arthur  in  his  state  robes. 

Arthur.  And  now  wise  Merlin,  wisest  of  this  earth, 
Here  cometh  thine  Arthur  decked  in  his  first  glory, 
So  great  hath  been  the  splendor  of  this  day 
That  all  my  heart  brims  with  the  wine  of  it. 

Merlin.  Yea  Kin^,  thy  horn  of  glory  doth  enlarge, 
Thy  sun  of  splendor  toppeth  the  future's  marge, 
May  all  bright  auspices  attend  its  setting. 


8  MOKDRED.  [act  I. 

Arthur.  And  now  wise  Mage,  what  hath  thy  will  with  me  ? 
I  am  thine  Arthur  even  being  King, 
For  thou  hast  made  me,  next  to  that  weird  fate 
That  sat  about  the  mystery  of  my  getting, 
And  the  sweet  fostership  of  Holy  Church, 
Which  halh  forgiven  ray  great  youthful  sin 
And  set  her  seal  of  favor  on  my  deeds. 
All  present  splendors  thou  hast  prophesied, 
And  made  the  people  take  me  for  their  king. 
Hast  pointed  out  my  fitness  for  this  office, 
And  lifted  Arthur  from  a  cloud  of  sorrows 
Unto  the  golden  glories  of  a  throne. 
To-day  the  fealty  of  an  hundred  Earls 
Which  thou  hast  garnered  to  my  new-made  kingdom 
Hath  honored  me  and  made  me  thrice  a  King. 
Yea,  well  say  Merlin  that  my  horn  is  full 
To  plenty  with  the  blessed  hopes  of  earth, 
And  all  of  this  I  owe  unto  thy  favor. 
My  thunder-clouds  are  past,  my  future  clear 
As  yon,  blue  summer  sky.  No  evil  lurks 
In  secret  for  to  strike  at  this  my  glory. 
Unless  a  bolt  fell  from  yon  dazzling  blue  ! 

[  Thunder  heard  in  the  distance — ARTHuil  staggers  back 
A  portent !     A  portent ! 

Merlin.  'Tis    nought,  O    King,    but   gathering   thunder- 
About  the  thick,  close  heatings  of  the  west,  [heads 
The  muttered  portent  of  a  summer  shower. 
'Tis  but  a  blackness  that  will  quickly  pass 
And  leave  a  blessing  on  the  fields  and  woods. 
Fear  not  such  signs  as  nature's  seeming  anger. 
I  come  to  thee  upon  a  graver  matter. 

Arthur.  Yea  Merlin  !  speak  on. 

Merlin.  Arthur,  I  speak  now  to  no  puling  youth. 
No  mere  sin-pricked  conscience  in  a  human  form, 
But  bring  a  kingly  matter  to  a  king. 
Whereof  that  he  may  do  the  kingliest  deed 
That  he  may  hap  on  in  the  unknown  lease 


SC.  11.  ]  MORDRED.  9 

Of  all  his  kingship.     I  have  kept  this  matter, 
The  deepest  and  the  dreadest  concerning  thee 
And  all  the  workings  of  thy  coming  fate, 
Until  the  hour  when  thou  didst  feel  thee  king 
In  more  than  seeming  outward  human  choice, 
And  thou  wert  at  thy  greatest,  even  that  I, 
In  all  his  power,  might  see  the  King  I  made. 
Not  in  all  the  glory  of  his  court. 
His  people's  laudings  sounding  in  his  ears. 
Not  in  all  the  shout  of  battle  victory ; 
But  in  that  dread  and  secret  solemr  hour. 
When  some  strange  doom  uplifts  its  sombre  face, 
And  man  must  show  his  kingship  of  himself. 

Arthur.  Yea  Merlin  !  say  on  Merlin,  say  on  ! 

Merlin.  For  this  same  reason  I  have  hid  till  now 
The  secret  from  thee  that  thou  hast  a  son. 

Arthur.  A  son  ! 

Merlin.  Yea,  a  son,  by  thine  own  sister. 

Arthur.  Oh  cruel !  Oh  cruel !  Oh  cruel ! 

Merlin.  Yea  more,  for  knowing  all  the  warm  desire 
That  thou  hast  unto  things  of  beauteous  shape, 
And  lovest  chiefly  what  is  glad  and  fair 
To  look  upon  in  nature  or  human  form. 
Which,  showest  in  thy  love  for  Launcelot, — 

Arthur.  Yea,  Launcelot  !    Would  a  Launcelot  were  my 

[son. 

Mordred.  {aside)  Ah,  me  ! 

Merlin.  But  knowing  further  that  a  deeper  feeling. 
That  holdeth  rule  in  every  human  heart, 
That  knoweth  greatness,  would  uppermost  in  thee. 
At  knowledge  of  the  fate  of  thy  poor  son, 
Who  madeth  not  himself  but  bore  thy  sin 
In  outward  simile  in  his  whole  life's  being, 
As  Christ  did  bear  men's  sins  upon  the  tree ; 
Who  knowing  all  the  ill  that  thou  had'st  done  him, 


lO  '  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

Still  had  sufficient  sense  of  inward  greatness 

To  Icve  the  father  who  begat  him  thus ; 

I  feel  if  thou  art  that  great  Arthur  dreamed 

Of  me  these  many  years  of  toil  and  care 

That  I  have  worked  to  make  thee  what  thou  art ; 

That  knowing  this  son  of  thine,  distorted,  wry, 

Diminutive  in  outward  human  shape, 

And  void  of  all  those  graces  thou  hast  loved 

To  group  about  thy  visions  of  thy  court, 

Hath  such  a  soul  within  him  like  a  jewel 

In  some  enchanted  casket,  that  were  rare 

In  all  the  loie  and  wisdom  of  this  age, 

That  thou  wouldst  love  him  only  all  the  more 

For  that  poor,  wry,  misshapen  shell  of  his. 

Arthur.  Oh  cruel !  cruel !  cruel  ! 
Merlin.  Mordred  come  forth. 

\Enter  Mordred  who  kneels  and  tries  to 
cover  himself  with  his  cloak. 

Arthur    (Starts).     What  be  this  ? 

Merlin.  Thy  son  Mordred,  the  heir  to  thy  realm  ! 

Arthur.  Oh  black  angered   Heaven !     (Falls  heavily  to 

[the  ground.) 

Mordred.  Father  !  my  father  !  Merlin  thou  has  killed  my 

Oh  Merlin  thou  wert  over-cruel !  [father. 

Merlin.  Better  that  he  were  dead  a  thousand  deaths 
Than  this  had  happened.     He  is  not  a  king 
In  more  than  vulgar  fancy.     In  mine  eyes 
With  all  thy  wry,  distorted  body  there, 
Thou  art  a  thousand  times  more  kingly  now 
Than  he  or  any  hke  him  in  this  realm. 
And  thou  wilt  be  a  king  yet  ere  thou  diest. 
Oh  Arthur,  thou  great  Arthur  of  my  dreams. 
Why  didst  thou  thus  unthrone  thee,  showing  bare 
A  thing  of  clay,  where  all  seemed  whitest  marble? 

Mordred.  Ha  !  now  he  revives.  Father ! 


SC.  II.]  .      MORDRED. 


II 


Arthur.  (Rises  and  sfaf::ers.)  Ha  !  yea,   yea,  that  cloud; 
that  cloud  about  mine  eyes  ! 
My  crown  !  My  crown  !  Methought  I  had  a  crown  ! 

Merlin.  Yea  of  a  truth  thou  hadst  one. 

Arthur.  And  where  be  it,  good  father? 

Mtrlin.  Stumbling  on  sudden  to  the  precipice  of  a  golden 

[opportunity, 
Thou  loosedst  thy  kingship  and  straightway  it  toppled  over. 

Arthur.  And  might  we  not  make  search,  Father  ? 
Might  we  not  take  lights,  lights,  and  go  find  it  ? 

Merlin.  Not  all  the  lights  that  light  this  glowing  world 
Might  light  thee  to  it. 

Arthur.  And  who  art  thou  that  mocketh  at  me  thus  ? 

Merltn.  A  shadow. 

Arthur.  And  what  be  I  ? 

Merlin.  In  truth  a  shadow. 

Arthur.  And  that,  that  blackness? 

^Pointing  at  Mordred. 

Merlin.  A  shadow  also,  yea  we  all  be  shadows. 

Arthur.  And  is  there  nothing  real,  nothing  tangible  in  all 

[this  mist  ? 

Merlin.  Nay,  nothing,  save  the  visions  we  have  lost, 
The  autumn  mornings  with  their  frosty  prime, 
The  dreams  of  youth  like  bells  at  eventime 
Ringing  their  golden  longings  down  the  mist. 

Arthur,  And  be  we  dead,  Father? 

Merlin.  Yea,  1  am  dead  to  one  great  hope  I  had, 
And  thou  art  dea'i  to  what  thou  mightst  have  been, 
And  he  is  dead  to  what  is  best  of  all, 
The  holiest  blossom  on  life's  golden  tree. 

Arthur,  And  what  be  that,  Father? 
Metlin.  Love  !  Lcvc  ! 
Arthur.  Then  he  be  greatest  ? 

Merlin.  Yea  greater,  far,  though  we  completed  greatness^ 
Than  either  thou  or  I  could  ever  be. 


1 2  MORDRED.       ^  [aCT  r. 

Arthur.  Then  what  be  he? 

Merhn.  He  is  that  rare  great  blossom  of  ihis  life 
Which  mortals  call  a  man. 

Arthur.  A  man  ! 

Merlin.  Yea,  a  man. 

Arthur.  Why  he  is  wry,  distorted,  short  of  shape, 
Like  some  poor  twisted  root  in  human  form. 
And  I  am  tall  and  fair,  placed  like  a  king. 
And  yet  you  make  him  greater,  how  be  that  ? 

Merlin.  Didst  thou  but  own  Goliath's  mighty  shape, 
And  wert  a  Balder  in  thy  face  and  form. 
With  all  of  heaven's  lightnings  in  thy  gaze, 
Still  would  his  greatness  dwarf  thee. 

Arthur.  Then  what  be  I  ? 

Merlin.  The  wreck  of  my  poor  hopes. 

Arthur.  The  what? 

Merlin.  The  shadow  of  a  king. 

Arthur.  A  nd  where  may  be  the  king,  if  I  be  but  the  shadow? 

Merlin.  Gone  !   Gone  ! 
He  went  out  in  his  glory  one  bright  morn, 
In  all  the  summer  splendors  long  ago. 
And  there  by  well-heads  of  my  youth's  bright  dreams, 
Be-like  he's  walking  yet. 

Mordred.  Oh  !  Merlin  wake  him  !  Thou  art  over  cruel 
To  play  thus  on  his  fancy  with  thine  arts. 

Merlin.  And  dost  thou  love  him  still  ? 

Mordred.  Yea,  love  is  not  a  thing  so  lightly  placed, 
That  it  may  perish  easy.     Thou  mayst  kill 
The  king  in  him,  thou  canst  not  kill  the  father. 
Though  thou  mightst  make  me  bitter  to  conspire 
And  topple  his  great  kingdom  round  his  head. 
Yet  I  would  ever  love  him  'neath  it  all. 
The  Arthur  of  thine  ambitions  may  be  dead. 
But  not  the  Arthur  of  my  childhood's  longing, 
Though  this  poor  King  who  hunteth  his  lost  crown 


SC    II.]  MORDRED.  '3 

Be  but  the  walking  shape  of  all  those  dreams. 
And  temptest  thou  me,  thou  Merlin,  thus  to  hate? 

Merlin,  Yea,  Mordred,  I  am  cruel,  I  am  fate. 
I  tempt  thee  but  to  live,  and  dost  thou  live, 
Enalienate  from  all  this  love  of  earth, 
And  they  but  crumble  this  phantom  round  their  heads. 
Thou  art  the  key  by  which  I  may  unlock 
The  lock  that  I  have  made  with  mine  own  hands. 
And  if  thou  ever  want'st  an  instrument, 
A  dagf^er  wherewith  to  stab  this  paltry  realm, 
Use  Vivien. 

Mordred.   Vivien  ! 

Merlin.  Yea  Vivien.     There  is  naught  on  all  this  earth 
That  cuts  so  sharp  the  thews  of  love  and  hate 
And  those  poor  brittle  thongs  that  bind  men  up 
In  that  strange  bundle  called  society, 
Like  the  sharp  acids  nature  hath  distilled 
From  out  the  foiled  hates  of  an  evil  woman. 

{To  Ihe  kins;.)    Ho!    ho!    Arthur!    Great  King 
Arthur.     Knowest  thou  me,  Merlin  ? 

Arthur.  Yea,  Merlin  it  is  thou,  and  I  the  King, 
Waking  it  seemeth  from  an  evil  dream. 

Merlin.  Yea,  king  we  have  all  awakened. 

Arthur.  Ha  !  where  is  my  crown  ? 

Mordred.  You  dropped  it  when  you  fainted  sire, 

[^Kneels  and  presents  it. 
Here  is  thy  crown,  Father. 

Arthur.  Father!  yea  all,  I  know  all  now.   It  Cometh  back. 
And  this  my  son  ?  Oh  Merlin,  had  I  known 
That  thou  didst  hate  me  and  wouldst  use  me  thus  ! 

Merlin.  I  hate  thee  not,  King  Arthur,  nor  do  I  love. 
I  loved  an  Arthur  once,  a  phantom  king. 
Whom  I  did  build  on  pinnacles  of  glory. 
But  he  hath  now  long  vanished,  and  I  go, 
Like  many  another  who  bath  wrecked  his  hopes 
On  some  false  shore  of  human  delusiveness, 


14  '  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

To  bury  my  pinch-beck  jewels  in  that  pit 

That  men  call  black  oblivion.     No,  proud  Arthur, 

I  am  much  over  old  for  loves  or  hates, 

My  days  are  past,  my  mission  done  on  earth, 

I  leave  thee  one  here  though,  whose  love  or  hate 

Is  more  to  thee  than  mine  could  ever  be. 

Twixt  thee  and  him  there  are  such  subtle  webs 

Of  destiny,  it  needeth  no  magician 

To  prophesy  the  running  of  those  threads 

That  weave  the  warp  of  your  two  destinies. 

Farewell  Arthur  !  Mordred,  iare  thee  well. 

Arthur.  Stay,  Stay,  Merlin  !  I  have  much  need  of  thee. 

\Exit  Merlin. 


SCENE  III. 

Enter  Dagonet  the  Kind's  fool. 

Dagonet.  Meseems  this  King  is  like  an  April  week. 
But  yestermorn  he  was  all  smiles  and  sun, 
And  now  he  skulks  and  prowls  and  scowls  and  mopes. 
As  though  existence  were  all  a  draggled  pond 
In  dirty  weather. 

Enter  Vivien. 

Vivien.  And  thou  fool,  but  a  wry  toad  on  its  edge. 

Dagonet.  And  thou  the  snake's  head  lifted  in  the  sedge, 
Aye,  sweet  Vivien. 

Vivien.  Why  snakest  thou  me  fool  ?  Methought  that  thou 

[favoredst  me  ? 

Dagonet.  Aye,  so  I  do.     Thou  coilest  round  my  heart, 
The  sweetest,  wisest  serpent  in  this  world. 
Thou  charmest  me  with  those  dazzling  eyes  o'  thme. 
And  though  the  blessed  bread  were  yet  in  mouth, 
I'd  go  to  Hell  to  do  a  deed  for  thee. 
And  yet  thou  art  a  snake,  as  well  thou  knowest. 
Is  it  not  so,  sweet  Vivien  ? 


SC.  III.]  MORDRED.  15 

Vivien.  Can'st  thou  be  wise  for  once  Dagonet  ? 
Yea  let  me  teach  thee. 

Dagonet.  And  what  is  it  to  be  wise  ? 

Vivien.  To  leave  aside  that  mummer's  lightsome  talk, 
And  show  a  front  of  silent  dignity. 

Dagonet.  Like  the  King  ? 

Vivien.  Aye,  like  the  King. 

Dagonet.  Then  to  be  wise  is  to  be  like  the  king, 
To  be  a  cup  of  summer  wine  today, 
Anon  a  dish  of  lonesome  woe  to-morrow. 
I  love  not  much  this  wisdom  thou  dost  teach, 
These  high  come-ups  and  downs  they  like  me  not. 
I  am  too  much  a  fool  to  learn  thy  lesson,     (sings.) 

And  who'd  be  wise 

And  full  of  sighs, 
And  care  and  evil  borrow  ; 

When  to  be  a  fool 

Is  to  go  to  school 
To  Happy-goluck  to-morrow ? 

Who'd  tread  the  road, 

And  feel  the  goad, 
And  bear  the  sweatsome  burden  ; 

When  loves  are  light. 

And  paths  are  bright 
Of  folly's  pleasant  guerdon  ? 

Sigh  while  we  may, 

We  cannot  stay 
The  sun,  nor  hold  its  shining. 

So  joy  the  nonce, 

We  live  but  once. 
And  die  for  all  our  pining. 

Who'd  be  a  king 
And  wear  a  ring 
And  age  his  youth  with  sorrow ; 


l6  '  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

When  to  be  a  fool 
Is  to  go  to  school 
To-Happy-go-luck-to-monow  ? 

Vivien.  Aye  Dagonet,  thou  art  indeed  a  happy  fool. 
Will  thou  shew  me  how  to  make  love  ? 

Dayonei.  {Kneels  in  mock  humility)  Sweet  Vivien,  1  am 

[thy  knight. 
Vivien    Is  it  all  thou  canst  say  ? 
Dagonet.     What  would'st  thou  have  more  ? 
Vivien.  Oh  lover's  talk. 
Dagonet.  Thou  meanest  as  lovers  speak  ? 
Vivien.  Yea. 

Dagonet.  After  wedding  or  afore,  sweet  Vivien  ? 
Vivien.  Afore,  of  course,  stupid  fool. 
Dagonet.  {Folds  his  hands  and  recites  solemnly.) 

Butter  frups  and  mumble  rings, 
Whirligigs  and  winter-greens. 
Turnip-tops  and  other  things,  I  love  thee  ! 
Spindle-spouts  and  turtles'  eggs, 
Mutton-chops  and  milk-stools'  legs, 
Heigh  ho  !  I  love  thee  ! 

Vivien.  And  now  thou  art  the  fool  in  earnest. 

Dagonet.  Yea,  and  the  better  lover. 

Vivien.  And  what  after  wedding,  thou  wise  fool  ? 

Dagonet.  What  saith  the  pot  to  the  egg  that  is   boiled 
The  floor  to  the  mop  that  hath  scrubbed  it,  [therein, 

The  rain  to  the  moist  earth, 
And  the  bird's  nest  to  the  empty  shell  ? 
Learn,  and  thou  shalt  find  it. 

Vivien.  And  had'st  thou  never  a  lover's  longing.  Fool  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea,  but  I  cured  me. 

Vivien.  Wilt  thou  give  me  that  receipt,  Dagonet  ? 


SC.   IIl-l  MORDRED.  I? 

Dagonet.   1  filled  my  mouth  wi'  honey,  and  my  couch  wi* 

And  went  asleep  on't.  [prickles, 

(  Vivieti  laughs  and  retires  behind  the  curtain.) 
Dai>onet.  Yea  woe  is  me,  is  me,  poor  Da}i;onet ! 

I  hate  myself  and  yet  I  fain  must  smile 

And  play  the  thistle-down  and  dandy-puff, 

The  foolish  froth  at  edge  of  flagonets  ; 

And  all  the  while  see  me  a  tortured  torrent 

Winding  down  in  the  darks  of  its  own  sorrow. 

Yea,  Dagonet,  thou  art  too  much  of  fool, 

Like  the  great  King  and  all  other  fools, 

To  be  the  thistle-down  thou  fain  wouldst  seem. 

For  thou  art  also  anchored  by  the  heels 

To  some  sore,  eating  iron  of  thy  desire.  ^ 

Enter  King  Arthur. 

Arthur.  Well  fool,  what  mummeries  now  ? 

Dagonet.  I  be  holding  a  black  Friday  service,  Sir  King. 

Arthur.  And  what  sayest  thou  in  thy  supplfcations  ? 

Dagonet.  I  think  on  thee  Sir  King,  and  I  think  on  poor 
And  I  say,  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us  !  [Dagonet. 

Arthur.  A  pious  wish,  Sir  fool,  but  why  pitiest  thou  me  ? 

Dagonet.  For  thy  poverty,  Sire  ? 

Arthur.  Why  poverty,  fool  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea  King,  thou  hast  a  crown,  thou  hast  wealth, 
And  power  and  lands,  and  yet  thou  lackest 
The  cheapest  commodity  i'  the  whole  world. 

Arthur.  And  what  be  that,  fool  ? 

•  Dagonet.   {Going out.)     Sunshine,  Sir  King,  that  be  the 

[cheapest  commodity. 

Enter  Launcelot. 

Latincelot.  Sire ! 

Arthur.  Launcelot  sit  here  and  let's  forget 
That  I  am  king  and  thou  the  greatest  knight 


1 8  '      '  MORDRED.  [act  I. 

In  this  most  mighty  realm.     Let  us  deem 
Me  but  the  Arthur  of  old  days,  and  thou 
The  sutiny  Launcelot  who  was  fain  to  shrive    • 
His  sorrowful  Arthur  from  his  darker  moods, 
And  make  a  glow  about  the  future's  countenance. 

Launcelot.  Yea  King,  but  methought  thou  sentest  for  me 

[with  most  urgent  commands. 

Arthur.  Yea,  most  urgent. 

Launcelot.  The  knights  and  men-at-arms  await  below, 
And  all  the  splendid  cortege  thou  hasl  ordered, 
•With  tetinue  befitting  thy  commands. 
God's  benison  go  with  thee,  great  Arthur,  > 

This  most  auspicious  day  thou  goeat  forth 
To  meet  the  high  .and  beauteous  Guinevere, 
Thy  chosen  mate  and  queen  of  this  fair  realm. 

Arthur.  I  go  not  forth  ! 

Launcelot.  Thou  goest  not,  and  why  ? 

Arthur.  Deem  it  not  strange  my  Launcelot  that  I  sit 
Here  thus  disconsolate  my  betrothal  morn, 
Nor  over  eager  for  to  play  the  lover, 
And  decked  in  splendor  go  to  meet  the  queen. 
Launcelot  thine  Arthur  hath  a  sorrow. 
Hast  seen  my  son  Mordred  ? 

I^auncelot.  Yea  Arthur,  I  have  seen  this  Mordred. 
Yea,  mine  Arthur,  thou  hast  indeed  a  sorrow, 
And  could  thy  Launcelot  but  help  thee  bear  it ! 

Arthur.  What  thinkest  thou  of  this  Mordred,  this  my  son  ? 
Likest  thou  him  not  ? 

Launcelot.  He  is  so  strange,  so  small,  so  queer  of  limb, 
At  first  I  marvelled,  then  I  pitied,  then • 

Arthur.  Yea,  and  what  ? 

Launcelot.  I  met  his  eyes,  and  straightway  I  forgot 
The  manner  of  man  he  was,  save  that  a  soul 
Of  wondrous  scorn  and  mystery  met  mine ; 
That  ffoze  the  present,  made  the  future  dread, 
A^ith  strange  forbodings.     While  I  mused  he  passed, 


SC.  III.]  MORDRED.  IQ 

But  left  that  chill  behind  him  in  my  blood. 
And  yet  he  seemeth  a  soul,  Sire,  to  be  pitied. 

Arthur.  Yea,  all  but  pity,  Arthur's  son  should  claim. 

Launcelot.  'Tis  thy  cross  Arthur,  as  a  king  thou'lt  bear  it. 
And  we  all  seeing  shall  say  our  king,  like  Christ, 
Beareth  his  cror.     '  the  sunlis;ht  i'  the  shadow, 
And  take  patter      -om  thy  greatness. 

Arthur,  I  beai      not,  Launcelot,  it  beareth  me  down, 
Down  into  black  ocpths,  aye  and  blacker. 
He  cometh  betwixt  my  spirit  and  the  sun. 
Canst  thou  not  help  thy  king  ? 

I  seem  like  one  who  walketh  in  dreams  where  all  are  shadows 
Till  I  seem  but  a  shadow-king  walking  in  a  realm  of  shadows. 

Launcelot.  Take  courage  to  thee  i\rthur,  it  will  off, 
Go  in  thy  kingship's  strength  and  meet  thy  queen. 
Her  beauty  and  her  kindliness  will  cure  thee 
Of  this  distemper. 

Arthur.  Nay,  Launcelot,  this  is  the  very  matter. 
As  thou  well  knowest  she  hath  never  seen  i!ie, 
And  for  the  very  reverence  I  bear  her, 
A  maiden  princess,  I  would  hold  as  snow 
In  each  thing  that  regardeth  purity. 
By  all  th|£  love  that  I  would  bear  to  her, 
1  would  not  have  her  meet  me  in  this  mood. 
But  I  would  have  her  meet  her  Arthur  when 
In  kingly  grace  he  is  himself  a  king. 
Yea,  Launcelot  for  this  I  sent  for  thee. 
'Tis  mine  intent  that  I  should  tarry  here 
And  in  the  joustings  cure  me  of  this  fit, 
While  thou  dost  go  forth  in  my  place  and  bring 
The  Princess  Guinevere  to  Camelot. 

Launcelot.  Nay  Sire,  not  I !     Not  Launcelot  ! 

Arthur.  By  thy  love  for  me,  thou  wilt  do  it. 
Whom  else  in  all  this  kingdom  wide  but  thee 
Could  I  send  on  a  mission  such  as  this. 
I  honor  all  thy  love  in  sending  thee. 
The  one  true  knight,  the  glory  of  my  realm. 


20 


MOKDRED.  [act.  I. 


In  this,  Oh  Launcelot,  thou  canst  help  thy  king, 
And  show  abroad  the  love  that  'twixt  us  lies. 
Till  men  will  say:  "  So  much  of  love  there  lies 
Betwixt  King  Arthur  and  great  Launcelot, 
That  when  the  king  stayed  ill  at  Camelot 
He  sent  forth  Launcelot  to  fetch  the  Queen." 
And  what  more  fitting  messenger  to  send 
Than  thee  in  all  thy  strong  and  splendid  youth, 
The  flower  and  sun  of  all  my  chivalry, 
Launcelot  the  young  and  pure-in-heart. 
Thou  wilt  do  this  and  crown  thy  love  for  me. 

Launcelot.  Nay,  mine  own  Arthur,  men  will  rather  say : 
Why  stayed  the  king,  unkingly,  thus  at  home. 
And  sent  forth  Launcelot  to  meet  his  bride  ? 
Oh  Arthur,  by  my  love,  go  forth  thyself. 
Rather  thou  sentest  me  sack  a  hundred  cities 
Than  do  this  deed  that  will  un-king  thee  so. 

Arthur.  Launcelot,  I  would  rather  die  than  go. 

Launcelot.  Y^  Arthur,  I  would  rather  die  than  go. 

Arthur.  Launcelot  lovest  thou  thine  Arthur  ? 

Launcelot.  Yea  Arthur,  well  thou  knowest. 

Arthur.  Wilt  thou  honor  me  as  a  king  ? 

Launcelot.  Yea  to  the  death.  ♦ 

Arthur.  Then  the  king  commands  that  thou  goest  for  the 

,  [love  thou  bearest  x\rthur. 

Launcelot.  Yea  Sire,  I  go.     \aside\  And  all  fears  go  with 

[me. 
\CuTtain. 


SCENE  IV. — Leodegrance^s  Castle  at  Cavielatd. 

Enter  Leodegrance  and  Pages. 

Leo.  Now  is  the  day  auspicious  to  my  house 
When  Guinevere  will  wed  the  mighty  Arthur. 
Golden  the  mornings,  happy  speed  the  nights, 
With  constellations  soft  and  wooing  hours 


SC.    IV.]  MORDRED.  21 

That  speed  the  bride  and  bridegroom  to  their  bowers. 
Splendid  be  my  prime  and  soft  mine  age, 
Who  am  a  father  to  this  mighty  realm. 
Ho  there,  without ! 

[  Trumpets  heard y  enter  pages. 

Page.  Mighty  Sire,  with  trumpet  and  with  drum, 
The  lofty  Arthur  with  his  host  hath  come. 
A  world  of  spears  and  pennons  fill  the  town, 
And  all  the  burghers  feast  their  eyes  with  seeing. 

[A  clatter  of  arms  without.     Enter  Launcelot 
ivho  kneels. 

Launcelot.  Sir  King  ! 

Leo.  Where  tarries  the  great  Prince  Arthur? 

Launcelot.  He  cometh  not,  my  lord. 

Leo.  And  why? 

Launcelot.  The  king  on  sudden  sick  at  Camelot 
Hath  sent  me  with  his  heart  to  Camelard 
To  plead  his  absence  with  thee  and  the  Princess, 
And  guard  her  glad  way  forth  to  Camelot. 
I  am  that  Launcelot,  that  knight-at-arms, 
Who  loveth  Arthur  more  than  maid  or  king. 
Perchance  if  thou  wilt  trust  her  to  my  care, — 
Here  is  great  Arthur's  order. 

\^Fresents  a  ring. 

Leo.  Welcome  to  Camelard,  most  noble  knight. 
Well  ken  we  of  thy  name  and  nobleness. 
It  grieves  us  much  great  Arthur  could  not  come, 
And  guest  of  our  poor  hospitality, 
Receive  our  noble  daughter  at  our  hearth, 
And  lead  her  home  from  out  our  very  doors. 
This  much  perforce  had  willed  a  father's  pride. 
This  much  had  satisfied  a  father's  love. 
But  seeing  Chance  hath  given  us  none  of  it. 
We  must  be  gracious  to  her  messenger 
And  thank  her  for  the  safety  she  hath  sent. 
Tomorrow's  dawn  we  give  into  thy  hands 


22  -  MORDRED.  [aCT  L 

The  maiden  daughter  of  our  kingly  love, 
To  guard  in  safety  to  great  Arthur's  court, 
There  to  be  wedded  as  his  faithful  queen. 
Meanwhile  receive  our  hospitality. 
This  castle  and  this  town  are  thine  to-night 
In  honor  of  the  Princess  an^  the  King. 

Launcelot.  We  thank  thee  Sire  for  this  thy  hospitality. 

Leo.  Yea   one   thing    further,    knowing    our   daughter's 
And  fearing  a  maiden's  pride  might  feel  a  hurt,         [nature, 
At  the  King's  absence,  we  would  therefore  advise 
That  this  be  kept  a  secret  till  tomorrow, 
When  we  will  break  it  softly  to  Her  Highness; 
Though  she  hath  never  seen  him,  as  thou  knowest, 
She  now  half  loves  him  for  his  kingly  virtues, 
And  being  her  father's  daughter  thinks  it  well 
To  act  a  daughter's  just  obedience. 
She  hath  a  wayward  nature,  'tis  a  pride 
We  have  in  common,  therefore  we  defer 
This  matter  till  tomorrow.     'T would  not  do 
To  let  her  sleep  on  such  sharp  disappointment. 

Launcelot.  As  you  will,  noble  lord. 

\Curtain. 


SCENE  V. — The  apartment  of  Guineverk— GuiNEVPiRE 
and  a  lady  attendant. 

Guinevere.  Now  Unid  I  have  seen  this  noble  Arthur. 
I  spied  him  from  my  turret  as  he  rode. 
And  all  my  heart  went  out  in  love  to  him. 
The  knight  incarnate  of  my  girlhood's  dreams. 
Did'st  thou  notice  his  bearing  Unid  ? 

Unid.  Yea  my  lady,  and  fairer  man  and  nobler  knight 
Eye  hath  not  seen. 

Guin.  His  face  was  like  the  gardens  when  the  sun 
Lifts  up  his  crimson  splendor  after  dawn, 
His  bearing  as  the  bearing  of  a  god, 
And  yet  as  one  who  would  be  kind  and  loving. 


SC.  v.]  MORDRED  23 

Unid.  Yea,  my  lady,  he  seemed  glad  and  fair, 
And  fit  to  be  the  lord  to  thee,  my  Princess. 

Guin.  Come  Unid  take  my  hand  and  we  will  sit 
And  speak  of  this  great  Arthur.     Well  thou  knowest 
My  maiden  fears  regarding  this  same  marriage. 
I  honored  this  Arthur  as  a  noble  king, 
The  mighty  monarch  and  the  splendid  warrior. 
And  yet  1  fear  him  tor  reputed  coldness. 
Thou  knowest  me  a  princess  warm  in  blood, 
Brim  with  fire  and  sweetness  of  this  life, 
Not  fitted  to  be  wedded  to  a  statue, 
A  marble,  though  that  marble  be  a  king. 
For  something  stirred  my  life-springs  long  ago, 
And  whispered,  (iuinevere  were  made  for  love 
And  love  alone  would  rule  her  destiny. 
And  when  I  looked  and  saw  him  enter  there, 
And  knew  my  lord,  and  felt  him  gaze  my  way. 
Knowing  his  errand  to  my  father's  hall, 
I  blushed  me  till  mine  inmost  being  burned. 
And  all  the  roses  whispered,  '*  Arthur"  !  "Arthur"  ! 
And  "  Arthur"  !  "  Arthur"  !  rang  through  all  the  halls. 
I  wonder  much  if  he  will  love  me  Unid  ? 

Unid.  In  sooth  he  must,  my  lady,  be  he  noble. 
Though  he  never  saw  thee,  who  but  heard 
Of  all  thy  charms,  my  Princess  Guinevere, 
Could  help  but  love  thee  when  he  seeth  thy  face  ? 

Guin.  'Tis  in  my  mind  to  sound  his  manner,  Unid. 
To  take  him  treacherous  and  unawares. 
I  like  not  much  this  way  of  wedding  maids. 
In  cruel  blindness  ot  their  coming  fate. 
This  marriage  savoreth  much  of  state  affairs, 
Even  o'er  much  to  please  my  noble  fancy. 
I  would  me  much  to  see  this  royal  lover. 
And  know  with  mine  own  senses  if  he  loves 
With  that  intense  delight  and  war- nth  of  feeling, 
With  which  poor  Darby  freely  weddeth  Joan. 
Though  I  be  all  a  queen  I  be  a  woman, 
With  all  the  thoughts  and  instincts  of  a  woman. 


'24  '  MORDRED.  [aCT  I. 

Unid.  What  would'st  thou  do,  my  lady  ? 

Guin.  That  I  this  eveti  meet  him  in  the  garden. 

Unid.  On  what  pretence,  my  lady  ?  'Twere  a  risky  busi- 

[ness 

Guin.  Thou  wilt  be  veiled  and  take  this  golden  ring, 
Cozen  his  squire,  and  say,  this  for  the  knight 
Who  rode  within  the  castle  walls  to-day. 
Leave  thou  him  word,  a  lady  in  distress, 
Who  needeth  a  knight  to  aid  her  in  her  sorrow. 
Would  meet  him  in  the  garden  walls  at  sunset. 

Unid.  I  will  do  it  my  lady,  but  what  if  he  come  not  ? 

Guin.  No  danger  of  his  not  coming  if  he  be 
The  man  I  worshipped  from  my  tower  this  morning. 
He'd  come  were  yon  rose-plot  enchanted  ground, 
And  gated  by  a  thousand  belching  fiends. 
He'd  come,  my  king  !  Oh  Unid,  how  I  love  him  ! 


SCENE  VI. — A  rose  garden  adjoining  the  Castle. 

Enter  Launcelot. 

Launcelot.  This  is  a  sunset  bower  for  lovers  made. 
The  air  seems  faint  with  pale  and  ruddy  bloom, 
The  red  for  rosy  dreams,  the  white  for  pure 
And  holy  maiden  thoughts  all  unexpressed. 
There  hangs  fatality  upon  this  place. 
I  cannot  shake  its  ague  from  my  heart. 
I  would  I  were  safe  back  in  Camelot, 
With  this  fair  Guinevere,  great  Arthur's  glory. 
I'd  rather  meet  the  mad  kerls  of  the  Isles, 
Than  come  again  on  such  a  quest  as  this. 
This  Guinevere  they  say  is  proud  and  cold, 
Not  such  a  woman  as  Launcelot  would  love. 
Yea  love,  what  doth  it  mean,  and  this  strange  maiden, 
What  can  she  want  of  me  ?    Aye,  here  she  comes. 


SC.  VI.]  MORDRED.  25 

Enter  Guinevere,  veiled. 

Guin.  My  lord  forgive  this  meeting  in  this  place. 
{Aside)  O,  if  he  like  it  not !  , 

Launcelot.  Wouldst  thou  ask  mine  aid  ? 

Gtiin^  Yea,  wouldst  thou  aid  a  maiden  in  distress? 

Launcelot.  Lad)',    all    maidens  have  a   right   to  a  true 

[knight's  help. 
Gui7i.  My  lord  hast  thou  ever  loved? 

Laun.  Many  fair  women  have  I  seen,  but  none  to  love 
Why  askest  thou  me  this  ?  [as  thou  meanest. 

Guin.  Wouldst  thou  fight  for  one  like  me? 

\Tht owing  aside  her  cloak. 

Laun.  (^Starts  ind  stands  as  one  in  a  dream.)    Fair  lady  ! 
{Aside.)  Kind  heaven  what  be  this? 
In  all  my  dreams  I  never  saw  such  beauiy 
Of  woman's  face  or  of  a  woman's  form. 
She  fills  my  heait  like  combs  of  golden  honey. 

Guin.  My  lord,  thou  hast  lost  thy  tongue. 
{Aside)  I  had  not  dreamed  this, 

Laun.  Fair  lady,  forgive  my  sudden  lack  of  speech, 
But  never  in  my  existence  have  I  seen 
Such  loveliness  and  maiden  grace  as  thine. 
Yea,  I  would  call  it  benison,  could  I  stand, 
And  gaze  upon  thee  as  thou  art,  forever. 
There's  some  fatality  that  draws  me  to  thee, 
Like  I  had  known  thee  somewhere  long  ago. 

Guin.  My  lord ! 

Laun.  Thou  art  all  glory,  all  that  this  life  is, 
And  all  before  but  one  poor  pallid  dream 
Of  this  real  living.     Now  I  see  thy  face, 
I  know  what  heaven  is  and  all  delights 
That  erring  mortals  lost  in  Paradise. 

Guin.  My  lord  !  {Aside)  Sweet  heaven  this  be  too  blessed. 
Laun.  Fair  maiden,  Princess,  lady,  what  thou  art 
Is  what  rd  die  for.     In  mine  inmost  heart 


26  MORDRED,  [aCT  I 

Thou  art  inshrined.     It  seems  some  blessed  dreim. 
Thou  art  too  beautiful  for  mortal  maid, 
And  yet  I  feel  thou  art  not  all  unkind, 
Might  I  dare  read  love's  missal  in  thine  eyes. 

Guin.  Most  noble  lord,  I  came  here  for  this  purpose 
To  render  my  heart's  being  up  to  thee. 
Deem  not  this  act  unmaidenly  in  one 
Whose  whole  life's  currents  to  thy  being  run. 
My  lord ! 

Laun.  It  seems  that  we  were  never  strangers. 

\^Folds  her  in  his  arms  and  kisses  her. 

Guin.  All  life  hath  been  but  shaping  up  to  this. 

Laun.  Oh  could  this  sunset  be  but  gold  forever. 

Guin,  My  lord  Arthur  ! 

Laun.  {Starts  back.)     Great  God  ! 

Guin.  Kiss  me.  Why  Great  God  ? 
Thou  art  my  God  when  thy  lips  are  so  sweet. 

Laun.  Why  calledst  thou  me  Arthur  ? 

Guilt.  And  art  thou  not  ? 

Laun.  Oh,  who  art  thou  that  callest  Arthur,  lord? 

Guin.  As  thou  art  Arthur,  I  am  Guinevere. 

[Launcelot  starts  bucu  in  horror. 

Laun.  Guinevere !  Oh    hell    make    thick    your    murky 

[curtains. 
Day  wake  m  more  !  stars  shrink  your  eye-hole  lights, 
And  let  this  damned  earth  shrivel. 

Guin.  {Clutching his  arm.)  And  art  thou  not  great  Arthur  ? 
Who  art  thou  ?     O  God  !  who  art  thou  ? 

Laun.  Not  Arthur,  no !  but  that  damned  Launcelot, 
Who  twixt  his  hell  and  Arthur's  heaven  hath  got. 

Guin.  Then  am  I  a  doomed  maid. 

[Swoons. 

Laun.  Black,  murky  fiend  of  hell  !  come  in  thy  form 
Most  monstrous,  give  me  age  on  ages  here. 
And  I  will  clang  with  thee  and  all  thine  imps. 


SC.  VI.]  MORDRED.  27 

Bind  me  in  blackness  under  hell's  foul  nij2jht, 
And  it  were  nothing,  after  dream  like  this. 

Guin.  {Rising  up.)    Oh  mercy !  damned  or  not,  I   love 

[thee  still. 

Laun.  Why  doth  not  nature  crack  and  groan  ? 

Guin.  {Crawls  to  his  Jeet).    Oh  be  thou  fiend  or  imp  or 
Thy  kisses  burn  me  even  through  this  mist.         [Launcelot. 

Laun.  Yea,  thou  dost  move  me  as  never  woman  hath 
Oh  would  to  God  that  we  had  never  loved.  [moved. 

Then  thou  wouldst  have  been  Guinevere,  and  I  Launcelot. 

(ituin.  What  be  we  now  ? 

Laun.  Damned  souls. 

Guin.  Then  sweet,  my  love,  it  were  thus  to  be  damned. 

Laun.  Oh  thou  must  go,  proud  Guinevere,  tomorrow 
Unto  great  Arthur's  court  and  be  his  bride, 
And  I  will  be  that  olden  Launcelot 
In  shape  and  seeming,  though  I  hold  a  devil. 
Oh  never  more,  mine  Arthur,  will  I  look 
With  peace  and  frankness  on  thy  noble  face. 
'Twixt  thee  and  me  a  wall  is  builded  up 
Of  hideous  evil.     Guinevere,  my  love, 
We  were  damned  long  ago,  and  this  be  hell. 

Guin.  Oh  most  unfortunate  me,  thou  art  not  Arthur, 
And  I  am  Guinevere  and  I  have  loved. 
Though  I  go  morrow  morn  to  Camelot 
And  place  my  hand  in  his  and  pledge  him  mine. 
Not  all  the  clamor  of  glad  abbey-bells, 
Or  heavenward  incense,  may  kill  out  the  fever 
Of  thy  hot  kisses  on  my  burning  lips. 
I  am  not  Arthur's.     He  is  but  a  name, 
A  ringing  doom  that  haunts  me  round  the  world. 
Launcelot,  we  were  wedded  long  ago 
Before  this  life  in  some  old  Venus  garden^ 
And  this  brief  meeting  but  re-memory 
Awakening  from  some  cursed  doze  of  life 


a8  '  MORDRED.  *  [act  I. 

Unto  this  present  glory  of  our  love. 

Thou  wilt  not  leave  me  Launcelot,  loveless  lorn  ? 

Laun.  Aye,  this  be  hell  ! 

Guin.  Aye,  hell  to  me  to  be  divorced  from  thee. 

Lauii.  Thou  art  betrothed  to  our  great  lord  high  Arthur, 
And  I  that  Arthur's  trusted  bosom  friend. 
And  yet  I'd  kiss  again  thy  honied  lips, 
Though  Arthur's  shadow  flaming  stood  between. 
I'm  not  an  Adam  to  be  driven  out  *• 

With  flaming  brand  from  thy  sweet  paradise. 
I'd  hold  thee  Guinevere  in  these  mine  arms, 
Though  on  each  side,  asqu^'''  .  a  ''shalt  not"  stood. 
I'd  fight  'gainst  all,  aye  Arthur,  mine  old  self. 
Oh  Guinevere,  this  love  hath  made  me  mad. 
Oh  were't  that  all  were  changed  in  nature's  course. 
That  I  were  not  myself  but  some  rude  shape. 
That  thou  wert  not  so  sweet  to  look  upon, 
But  sour  and  crabbed  and  old  for  Arthur's  sake. 
So  that  all  might  have  gone  the  olden  way. 

Guin.  Oh  that  this  night  might  never  pass  away. 
We  and  this  garden  here  forever  stay, 
Von  rising  moon  forever  hold  her  crest 
Above  the  fringed  peace  of  yonder  West, 
These  roses  ever  perfumed  petals  cast, 
So  that  our  love  in  its  glad  youth  might  last  ; 
No  bleak  to-morrows  with  their  Arthurs  come, 
With  evil  waking  to  a  sombre  doom  ; 
No  age,  like  autumn,  wrinkling  to  decays, 
Filled  with  sad  hauntings  of  gone  yesterdays. 

[Curtain. 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  l.—The  JoreHt  of  Bradimule. 

Enter  Merlin  and  Vivien. 

Merlin.  Tarry  we  here,  for  I  am  fain  for  rest.  [sMs  down. 
Oh  mighty  Slumber,  sweet  Oblivion, 
Make  this  day  night  and  seal  my  sleep-ward  eyes ; 
And  bear  me  in  thy  light  and  feathery  bark 
For  1  am  over-weary  of  this  world. 

Vivien.  Give  me  the  book  of  charms  wherein  is  written 
The  power  whereof  that  I  may  guard  thy  rest. 

[Mer/in  gives  her  the  book. 
Merlin.  Thou  hast  poor  Merlin  on  the  weaker  side. 

\He  sleeps. 

-,.  .       ^,  ^  [Vivien  mutters  the  charm. 

Vivten.  Sleep  !  Sleep  !  [Merlin  tries  to  aivaken. 

Merlin.  Ho  !  Ho  !  a  mountain   lieth   on  me.     Take  ofif 

TT    •  Tx    .      •        ,  ^  [^^'s  mountain ! 

Ha  !  Ha  !  mine  olden  power,  and  thou  art  gone  at  last ! 

[Tries  to  rise. 
Vivien.  {Mutters  charm.)     Sleep  .'"  Sleep  ! 

Merlin.  Methought  it  thundered,  and  a  drop  of  rain 
-tell  on  my  forehead. 

Vivien.  Sleep  !  Sleep  ! 

Spirit  of  slumber,  rise  from  thy  dark  caves! 

{The  spirit  of  sleep  rises  up  as  a 

,,,       ^.      .      .       ,  S^O'  »iist  and  lootns  about. 

Wrap  him  in  thy  shadowy  embrace 

And  bind  him  in  thy  filmy,  silken  bonds 
A  thousand  ages. 

Merlin.  Oh  light,  thou  goest  out !  {Sinks  again. 

Vivien.  Come,  black  Oblivion,  from  thy  shadowy  tomb ! 

[  The  spirit  of  oblivion  rises  as  a  black  smoke. 


30  MORDRIiU.  [act  II. 

Shroud  hini  in  ihy  swart  and  deep  embrace 
A  thousand  ages.     Bind  his  senses  last. 
Make  him  all  droppings  of  a  foul  decay. 

[Mkri.in  moans  and  sinks  in  sleep 
[ViviKN  7veaves  paces  about  him.     Spirits  rise 
afid  wind  him  in  a  grey  and  black  smoke. 
Sleep  hke  any  rock  or  clod  of  earth, 
Thou  coffin  that  enclosed  a  human  soul. 
The  bhnd,  dull  years  take  never  note  of  thee, 
For  thou  art  part  and  parcel  of  the  past. 
Now  Arthur,  that  thy  great  right  hand  is  gone, 
Vivien  the  devil  backs  to  Camelot, 
Vivien  the  scorned,  the  dust  betwixt  thy  feet. 
Doth  back  to  Camelot  where  vengeance  waits. 
I  am  resolved  to  be  the  villain  dire. 
And  cunning  devil  of  this  present  play, 
'i'hen  hence  to  Camelot  to  achieve  mine  end. 
ril  shadow  VTordred,  work  upon  his  ill, 
And  mould  him  creature  to  my  devil's  will. 

[^Cuttain. 


SCENE  II.— Castle  at  Camelot. 

Enter  Mordred. 

Mordred.  Two  roads  there  are  for  me  in  this  dark  world, 
Both  shadowed  by  the  gloom  of  haunted  groves. 
One  leads  to  quiet  and  kind  nature's  peace. 
I'm  part  inclined  to  joiti  a  brotherhood, 
Composed  of  nature  and  mine  inward  thoughts, 
And  take  my  shadow  from  this  damned  court. 
Where  so  much  ill  begins  to  lift  its  head. 
The  other  road  leads  to  no  happiness ; 
But  dark  ambition — it  lowers  about  my  brain, 
And  hatred  at  the  scorn  of  human  eyes. 
Yea,  I  am  half  resolved  to  be  a  man, 
And  take  a  part  in  this  poor  shifty  world. 
And  help  to  pull  the  ropes  behind  the  scenes 
That  aid  the  puppets  to  their  forced  parts. 


SC    II.]  iMOKDREL).  jj 

Yea,  sooth  indeed  that  Vivien  hath  a  devil, 
But  It  is  such  a  sweet  and  clever  devil, 
I  cannot  help  but  take  it  to  mine  arms. 
She  hath  a  counsel  toward  the  stormier  part. 
She  puts  her  little  foot  on  tate's  grim  head, 
And  harks  it  hiss.     I  am  persuaded  much 
To  make  a  stir  to  remedy  my  wrongs. 
And  yet  my  loftier  nature  cries  me  no. 
Oh  !  Mordred,  what  art  thou,  mis-shapen  devil  ? 
Thou  wilt  be  sweet  as  Launcelot  in  the  grave. 
Though  thou  canst  never  smile  on  Guinevere, 
Or  other  star  of  brightness,  stand  by  Arthur 
Like  lofty  pine  i.hat  girds  the  hills  of  snow. 
Yea,  I  am  half  constrained  to  be  a  devil, 
And  tike  this  mighty  kingdom  by  the  walls. 
And  shake  it  till  its  deep  foundations  thunder. 
There  is  no  love  for  Mordred  in  these  precincts  ; 
Took  he  the  lonely  road  tomorrow  morn, 
They'd  cover  his  face  and  laugh  the  world  along, 
Unmindful  of  his  setting. 

Enter  Vivien. 

Viviett.  Nay  not  so,  there  are  two  as  would  grieve  thee. 

Mordred,  Aye,  two  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  two,  I  and  thy  dog. 

Mordred  Yea  sooth  would  grieve   my  poor  four-footed 
Better  that  Mordred  had  been  got  a  dog,  [beast. 

With  four  good  legs  and  strength  of  limbs  and  back, 
A  pattern  to  his  species,  than  be  thus 
A  blot  on  all  the  beauty  of  his  kind. 
Vivien,  1  would  that  I  were  shelved  in  earth. 

Vivien.  Doubtest  thou  my  love  ? 

Mordred.  Thou  art  a  strange  and  subtle  human  mixture 
Of  cleverness  and  charm  and  swift  deceit, 
And  yet  I  like  thee,  though  thou  voicest  me 
Upon  the  evil  longings  of  my  nature. 
What  canst  thou  love  in  me  ? 


32  MORDKKD.  [aCT.  H. 

Vivien.  Yea  all  of  thee,  not  thy  mis-shapen  body, 
But  thy  deep,  precious  mind,  thy  spirit  rare, 
That  patent  greatness  seated  on  thy  brow 
Wherefore  I'd  see  thee  lift  this  Arthur  down. 
And  show  thy  kingship  on  thy  rightful  throne. 
Thou  hast  a  grievance  against  this  callous  world, 
If  ever  man  were  saddled  by  grim  woe. 

Enter  Launcelot  at  left^  j'oUowed  by  Guinevere. 

And  here  doth  come  the  way  as  will  help  thee  to  it. 

\^Pulls  MoRDkED  hack  into  the  shadoiv. 

Laun.  {Comes  fonvard  followed  by  Guinevere.) 
My  dearest  lady  why  wilt  tempt  me  thus  ? 
Thou  art  the  rightful,  wedded  spouse  of  Arthur. 

Guin.  (Kneels.)  Oh  !  Launcelot  thou  hast  damned  me 

[with  thy  beauty. 
I  am  no  more  the  rightful  wife  of  Arthur, 
I  cannot  live  without  thee,  Launcelot 

Laun.  Lady,  this  stolen  sweetness  is  a  hell. 
I  am  no  more  the  Launcelot  that  I  was. 
Nor  would  I  be  that  Launcelot  for  high  Heaven. 

[Both  pass  on. 
Vivien.  {Aside  to  Mordred.)     These  words  are  rungs  by 

[which  to  build  thy  ladder. 
Over  the  ruins  of  this  doomed  kingdom. 

Mordred.  I  cannot  play  thus  on  my  father's  shame. 
Even  thoui^h  he  hate  me.     I  would  rather  go 
And  bury  my  sorrows  in  a  hermit's  grave 
Than  build  a  power  upon  this  human  folly. 
Even  these  twain,  my  heart  doth  pity  them. 
Not  all  their  beauty  hath  kept  them  from  this  hell. 

Vivien.  Hast  thou  no  pride.  Prince  Mordred  ? 
Yea,  wait  a  breath,  I'll  show  thy  wrongs  too  deep 
To  languish  in  a  monkish  wilderness. 
What  hast  thy  soul  to  do  with  weeds  and  turf  ? 
Assert  thy  greatness  or  else  kill  thyself. 
Thou  art  not  fit  to  cumber  this  flat  earth 
If  thou  canst  not  assert  thy  dignity.  * 


SC.  II.]  MORDRED.       •  33 

Were  I  mis-shapen  o'er  a  thousand  times, 
Had  but  one  eye,  a  wen  uj^on  my  neck, 
And  swart  and  foul  as  foulest  Caliban, 
And  were  a  man,  I'd  make  my  kingship  felt — 
So  all  should  fear  the  God  that  looked  a  devil. 

Mordred.  Where'er  thou  comest  from,  thou  comest  not 

[from  Heaven. 

Vivien.     Yea,  vvhat  cometh  down  from  Heaven  is  not  for 

[such  as  thee. 
The  day  doth  come  when  thou  wilt  call  on  me. 

Re-efiter  Ouinkvere  alone. 

Vivien.  Stay  lady,  I  would  speak  with  thee. 

Guin.  What  art  thou,  woman  ? 

Vivien.  I  am  a  maiden  here  about  tny  court, 
Of  whom  'tis  said  that  she  did  love  great  Arthur, 
Our  high,  lord  Arthur,  whom  thou  lovest  so  well  ; 
If  this  be  ray  poor  crime,  forgive  me  lady, 
Seeing  thou  thyself  art  happier  in  the  same. 
Thou  art  the  splendid  moon  to  his  great  planet, 
And  we  but  stars  that  vanish  at  thy  rising 

Guin.  What  wouldst  thou  with  me? 

Vivien.  I  would  bring  unto  thy  notice  one, 
Wronged  of  nature  and  his  human  kind, 
Knowing  where  thine  admiration  stopped, 
Might  follow  thy  pity. 

Mordred.  Nay,  all  but  pity.     Pity  is  such  a  gift 
That  all  the  world  would  grant  it,  none  receive. 
Grant  me  thy  scorn,  lady,  but  withold  thy  pity. 
Thou  mightst  pity  a  horse  or  dog  or  fowl, 
But  man  of  rarest  compounds  moulded  up, 
And  standing  on  foundations  of  a  soul, 
Hath  too  much  of  the  god  within  him  hid 
To  need  such  shallow,  cold,  inclement  gifts. 
Your  pities  would  freeze  the  ic^d  heart  of  winter 
Colder  within  its  breast. 


34  -        •       MGRDRED.  [aCT  II. 

Gi4in.  And   what  art  thou,   strange  heap,  that  speakest 

[thus  unto  the  queen. 

Mordred.  Madam,  I  am  one  who  through  this  world, 
Goeth  by  ways  of  sorrow  and  mishap. 
Knowest  me  not.  Madam  ? 

Guin,  Thou  seemest  like  some  gloomier  Dagonet, 
Wearing  the  proud  black  of  some  mock  tragedy. 
Art  thou  another  fool  ? 

Vivien.  {Aside.)  Ah  !  that  will  touch  him. 

Mordred.  A  fool.  Madam!   Callest  thou  Mordred  a  fool? 
Takest  thou  him  for  one  who  juggles  for  a  court  ? 
A  football  for  the  passing  to  merriment. 
Forgotten  ere  his  wit  hath  passed  to  sadness. 
Because  I  wear  mis-nature  on  my  form, 
Knowest  thou  not  the  son  of  Britain's  king  ? 

Guin.  I  know  thee  not,  save  that  thou  art  insolent. 
Pass  !  You  bar  my  way. 

Mordred.  Is  there  so  little  in  this  royalty 
That  men  know  not  a  king  when  he  goes  forth  ? 
When  that  great  Arthur  thou  callest  lord  goes  out, 
I  tell  thee.  Madam,  I  am  Britain's  king. 

Guin.  Enough  insolent !  is  it  some  mock  tragedy 
Thou  playest  ?  Or  art  thou  mad  ? 

Mordred.  Madam  though  thou  wert  thousand  times  a 
The  day  will  come  when  thou  wilt  eat  those  words  [queen, 
With  the  salt  rue  of  utter  wretchedness. 

Vivien.     {Aside).     He  hath  awakened  at  last. 

Enter  Launcelot. 

Guin.  Dost  threaten  thy  queen  ?  Make  way,  monster  ! 

^    Laun.  {Rushing  Jorwatd).     Dost  thou  insult  the  Queen? 

Mordred.  Nay,  not  as  thou  hast  insulted  great  Arthur's  wife. 

Laun.  Toad  !  abortion  !  take  that,  and  that.   {Beats  him 

[with  the  flat  of  his  sword. 


SC.  II.]  MORDRED.  '  35 

Mordred.  {Starting  back  and  drawing).     Thou  hast  slain 

[pity  and  peace  forever. 
Come  on  !  adulterous  knight,  and  each  foul  stroke 
Dishonoring  my  poor  back,  I'll  pay  with  hate 
To  fullest  usury.     {They  dosv). 

[Launcelot  disarms  Mordred. 

Laun.  There  go,  Mis-shapen,  Wert  thou  not  a  Prince, 
I'd  teach  thee  manners  toward  thy  father's  wife  ; 
Wert  thou  a  man,  and  not  that  which  thou  art, 
With  this  quick  blade  I'd  stop  thy  craven  heart. 

Mordred.  There  is  nought  more  to  do  but  to  slay  me. 
{Bares  his  breast.)     Slay  me  ere  I  kill  myself. 

Vivien.  Nay  !     Nay  ! 

Laun.  Kill  thyself.  Prince,  Launcelot  fights  with  men  ! 

{To  the  Queen.)     I  will  follow  you,  my  lady. 

Exit  Launcelot  and  the  Queen. 

Mordred.  {Flings  his  iworj  aioay.)     All  sweet   compas- 

[sions,  pityings  and  resolves 
That  dwelt  in  Mordred's  breast  are  slain  at  last, 
Slain  by  a  woman's  scorn,  a  man's  brutality. 
A  last  good-bye  to  all  my  gladder  thoughts. 
And  hail  dark  vengeance,  plots  and  evil  counsels. 
Mordred  is  mis-shapen,  then  will  he  breed  chaos. 
Mordred  is  monstrous,  then  will  he  breed  horrors. 
Mordred  is  dark,  then  will  he  cast  a  shadow, 
That  ne'er  shall  loose  this  kingdom's  light  again. 

\^Curtain. 


SCENE  \\l.— Another  part  of  the  Castle. 

Enter  Vivien. 

Vivien.  Now  for  the  plot  to  bring  this  kingdom  down. 
I've  racked  my  wits.    Yea,  I  have  got  a  plan. 
Ho  1  here  comes  Mordred. 


36  '  MORDRED.  [act  II. 

Enter  Mordred. 

Art  thou  resolved  to  put  it  to  an  issue  ? 
Or  art  thou  craven  ? 

Mordred.  Yea  I  am  all  determination  now. 
Compunction's  dead.     Yea,  I  am  over-tired 
Of  playing  the  wart  upon  the  hand  of  time. 
But  am  resolved  to  be  that  hand  itself, 
And  move  the  issues  of  this  foolish  world. 

Vivien.  What  is  thy  plot  ? 

Mordred.  To  hold  the  world  at  bay. 

Vivien.  'Tis  too  vague. 

Mordred.  Yea  all  this  life  is  vague  till  evil  shrinks 
The  vistas  of  our  longings  down  to  lusts. 
My  plot  is  this,  to  reach  this  kingdom  by 
The  sinister  door  that  opens  to  Launcelot. 

Vivien.  Yea,  'tis  my  thought. 

Mordred.  To  catch  the  queen  in  her  own  guilty  net, 
Then  open  her  shame  to  all  the  ga[)ing  world. 
'Twill  bring  great  Arthur's  glory  by  the  walls, 
With  thunder  and  smoke  of  splendor  to  the  ground. 
Launcelot  is  half  of  Arthur's  greatness. 
And  when  he  hateth  Launcelot  for  the  Queen, 
This  house  of  majesty  will  rend  itself, 
And  Mordred  be  the  raven  in  the  smoke, 
Flapping  his  wings  across  it's  desolation. 

Vivien.  Yea,  then  will  my  hate, — my  love, — 

Mordred.  Nay  woman  do  not  speak  of  hates  or  loves 
Or  other  foolish  human  hearted  moods 
Of  man's  poor  weakness,  nay,  but  steel  thyself 
To  be  an  engine  ot  the  crushing  fates  ; 
For  he  vho  would  be  powerful  must  be  iron 
And  adariant  amid  this  cruel  world, 
Knowing  not  heat  nor  cold,  remorse  nor  shame, 
Doing  the  deed  that  cometh  to  his  hand. 
But  we  must  have  a  care  and  watch  and  wait 
And  bait  the  trap  and  lay  the  springe  and  mine.        • 


SC.  III.]  MORDRED.         *  37 

Not  such  a  greatness  crumbles  in  a  day. 
Much  might  be  lost  by  hastening  the  issue. 
Some  one  must  work  upon  the  moody  king 
And  mould  him  softly,  cunningly  to  knowledge 
Of  his  cuckoldship.     It  must  be  deftly  done, 
Or  like  spark  o'  the  powder,  it  would  send 
Our  plottings  and  hopings  out  o'  the  skyhole. 
Vivien.  It  is  well. 

Mordred.  Meanwhile  we  watch  "the  Queen  and  Launcelot, 
Each  action,  aye,  the  changing  of  their  faces  ; 
Till  knowledge  be  garnered  of  their  secret  commerce. 
Who  will  approach  the  King  ? 

Da  gone  t.  {Heard  without  singing.) 

Morning  her  face  is, 
Blue  seas  her  eyes. 
All  of  earth's  sweetness 
In  their  light  lies. 

Coral  her  lips  are. 
Red  reefs  of  doom, 
There  do  Love's  ships  drive, 
Down  to  their  doom. 

Vivien,  Leave  it  to  me,  here  cometh  one  who  may  work 

[the  matter. 
Mordred.  Who  be  it  ?  Not  the  fool  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  the  fool !     He  is  not  all  surface,  he  is  deep* 
Yea,  deep  for  me. 

Mordred.  May  he  be  trusted  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  like  one  who  is  in  love. 
Leave  me  Prince,  I  would  sound  him. 

Dagonet.  {Enters  singing.) 

There  would  I  shipwreck, 
Swooning  to  death, 
Passing  to  darkness 

On  the  winds  of  her  breath,  [^a:// Mordred. 
Ho  Vivien  !         * 


38  '       *         MORDRED.  [act  11 

Vivien.  Well  fool,  and  what  wert  thou  singing  ? 

Dagonet  'Twas  but  a  fool's  carol. 

Vivien.   If  thou  wert   not  a  fool  I  would  say  thou  wert 

[in  love. 
Dagonet.  (Starts  )  Well  guessed,  Vivien. 
And  by  Our  Lady,  thou  art  in  the  right  of  it. 

Vivien.   And  who  might  be  the  object,  sir  Fool  ? 

Dagonet.  Madam,  I  am  deep  in  love  with  three  mistres- 

[ses. 
To  wit,  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future. 

Vivien.  And  how  be  that,  Fool  ?  * 

Dagonet.  The  first  be  ray  breakfast  which  I  have  had, 
The  second  my  dinner  which  I  have  just  eaten, 
And  the  third  be  my  supper,  which  like  the  moirovv 
Is  the  more  joyful  as  yet  to  come. 

Vivien.  Wouldst  thou  do  me  a  favor  ? 

Dai^onet.  What  be  it  ? 

Vivien.  Dost  thou  love  the  king  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea  that  I  do,  though  he  be  sometimes  like  a 
Spoiled  on  the  weather-side.  Ls**^^^  child, 

There  be  'something  grieves  him. 

Vivien.  Yea,  well  hath  he  cause  to  grieve  ! 

Daoonet.  Thou  dost  say  so  !    What  be  the  cause  ? 

Vivien.  The  queen. 

Dagonet.  Why,  Lhe  be  well  favored  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  but  treacherous. 

Dagonet.  Aye,  knowest  thou  that  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  and  more  ! 

Dagonet.  Then  is  hell  come  on  earth  I 
What  wilt  have  me  do  ? 

Vivien.  I  would  have  thee  warn  the  king. 

Dagonet.  The  king  1 

Vivien.  Yea,  the  king.      " 


SC.  III.]  MORDRED.  39 

Dngofiet.  As  well  ask  the  cricket  to  pipe  for  the  thundcr- 
Dost  thou  crave  my  destruction  so  dearly  ?  [storm. 

Vivien.  Thou  alone  canst  do  it  and  survive, 
Thou  art  of  so  little  worth  in  his  estimation, 
And  thou  must. 

Dagonrt.  Yea,  Vivien,  I  will.     Oh  poor  world, 
Where  e'en  royalty  cannot  'scape  the  blight ! 
God  save  us  all !  I  will  e'en  commence  now. 
Here  cometh  the  king.  \Extt  Vivien. 

King  enters  at  the  left. 

Dagonet.  Though  she  bade  me  hellward,  I  will  obey. 
But  what  evilment  is  abroad  now. 
That  would  I  know  ?  There's  something  back  o'  this. 
The  king  a  cuckold  !     Then  Heaven  help  us  all  ! 
I  would  this  were  dispatched,  yet  how  to  do  it, 
Passeth  mine  understanding. 

Arthur.  Well,  sir  Fool, 
Hast  a  merry  message  for  my  heart  to-day  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea  Sire. 

Arthur.  Then  mouth  it,  Fool. 

Dagonet.  He  who  cometh  to  the  wall   hath   crossed  the 
last  ditch. 

Arthur.  Thine  is  but  grim  comfort.  Fool. 

Dagonet.  Then  is  it  thine,  Kina;,  and  he  who  garners  not 
Can  laugh  with  death,  [i'  the  morning 

Arthur.  Indeed  thou  art  over-weird. 
Come,  play  me  a  masque. 

Dagonet.  A  masque,  Sire  !  Should  it  be  merry  ? 

Arthur.  Aye,  merry,  or  thou  ruest  it ! 

Dagonet.  Here  be  a  comedy,  Sire  ; — 
There  be  a  king.  Sire  ; — 

Arthur.  Yea. 

Dagonet.  And  there  be  a  queen.  Sire, 
And  there  be  a  bishop — nay,  a  knight. 


4©  MORDRED.  [act  II. 

Arthur.  And  what  then  ? 

Dafjonet.  The  knight  taketh  the  queen  ! 

Arthur.  And  the  king,  Fool  ? 

Dagonet.  Oh  he  be  fools-mated  !  ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Arthur.  And  where  be  the  comedy,  Fool  ? 

Dagoiict.  Oh  the  iiends  laugh  1'  the  pit, 
That  be  the  comedy,  ha  !    ha  !    ha  ! 

Arthur.   Ha  !  hast  thou  a  moral? 

Dagonet    Nay,  not  a  moral,  Sire  !    Morals  be  not  in  it. 

Arthur.  Thou  art  but  a  wry  fool  to  day. 

Dagonet.  (Aside.)     My  plan  faileth. 
{To  the  king.)  Yea  Sire,  I  passed  an  uncommon  sorry  night. 

Arthur.  How  fool  ? 

Dagonet.  I  dreamed  of  thee,  Sire,  and  as  I  love  thee, 
I  liked  it  not. 

Arthur.  What  was  thy  dream  ? 

Dagonet.  I  dreamed  I  saw  thee  stand,  and   back   of  thee 
A  great  blackness,  that  thou  sawest  not, 
And  from  the  shadow  loomed — pardon  me  Sire — the  queen 
And — and — 

Arthur.  Ha,  and  what  ? 

Dagonet.  Forgive  thy  poor   fool,   Sire,    but  methought  I 

[saw  Sir  Launcelot. 

Arthur.  {In  a  terrible  passion.)  Heaven  damn  thee,  beast ! 
{Knocks  Dagonet  down  and  would  throttle  him.)  [scum  ! 
Did  the  greats -t  knight  'i  this  kingdom 
Dare  even  dream  such  a  thought,  I  would  hack  him  to  earth. 

Dagonet.  Slay  me,  great  Arthur,  but  forgive  thy  fool. 

Arthur.  Knowest  thou  not  thou  hast  slandered  the  whole 

[realm  ? 
Dagonet.  I  am  but  a  poor  fool,  Sire. 

Enter  Gwaine,  a  tall  clumsy  youth  in  scullion's  dress. 

Arthur.  Who  art  thou  ? 


SC.  111.]  MORDRED.  4I 

Gwaine.  Thou  must  lell  me. 

# 

Arthur.  I  am  the  king. 

Gwaine.  Art  thou  ?  Thou  lookest  hke  one. 

Arthur.  Whence  comest  thou  ? 

Gwaine.  I  came  out  o'  the  marches  yestermorn, 
Where  I  served  my  father  i'  the  bogs, 
Intentioning  to  be  a  knight, 
And  they  put  me  down  in  the  kitchen. 

Arthiir.  Thou  vvouldst  be  a  knight? 

Givaine.  Yea  ! 

Arthur.  And  vvnerefore  ? 

Gwaine.  That  I  might  serve  the  king. 

Arthur.  Thou  wouldst  serve  me  ? 

Gzuaine.  That  I  would. 

Arthur.  {Loosening  Dagonet )     Then  hang  yonder  imp  i' 

[the  crane  over  the  castle  wall. 
Gwaine.  Come,  rat !  {lifts  Dagonet  and  hangs  him  on 

[the  crane.) 
Dagonet.  Oh,  Oh,  the  shame  ! 

Gwaine.  Hath  such  as  thou  shame  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea,  I  house  me  a  soul. 

Gwame.  Then -is  it  poorly  lodged,     {fsi^oes  out.) 

Arthur.  {Strides  back  and  forth)     Yea    a    fool! — worse 

[than  a  fool ! 
Arthur,  why  wilt  thou  shame  thyself  even  in  thought  ? 
Out  damned  suspicion,  that  insulteth  my  dignity  ! 

Enter  Guinevere. 

Arthur.  Madam,  I  would  entreat  thy  pardon  ! 

Guin.  Wherefore  my  lord  ? 

Arthur.  For  a  thought.     Guinevere,   I  am  unworthy  of 
thy  queenliness. 

Guin.  Nay,  nay  my  lord,  not  so.     I  am   but  flesh  and 
blood. 


42  •  MORDRED.  [aCT   II. 

Arthur.  Thou  art  a  Queen  ! 

Guin.  Yea,  and  a  weak  woman. 

Arthur.  It  seemelh  we  be  strangers  even  yet. 

Guin.  Aye,  my  lord. 

Arthur.  Thou  art  cold,  Madam,  and  I  like  that  iciness. 
It  well  becometh  the  left  side  of  this  whiteness  I  uphold. 
What  wotildst  with  Arthur,  this  morning,  my  Queen  ? 

Guin.  I   would  know   of   the  tournament  thou   hast  in 

[hand. 

Arthur,  Yea,  the  tournament ! — the  tournament  ! 
I  fear  I  am  over  moody  and  forgetful  at  times. 
Hast  thou  seen  Launcelot  ? 

Guin.  {Starts.)     Why  Launcelot,  my  lord  ?  He  is  not  the 

King. 
Arthur.  Yea,  not  the  king,  but  he  hath   charge  of   such 

[matters. 
Knowest  thou  my  lady,  that  Arthur  loveth  Launcelot. 
Yea,  had  Arthur  a  brother  or  a  son,  would  he  were  Launce 

[lot. 
And  were  Launcelot  evil,  the  Heavens  would  distil  poison^ 

Guin.  Yea,  my  lord,  but  thou  forgetest  the  tourney. 

^rM/^r.  Heralds  have  been  sent  out  and  from  all  parts  of 

[the  kingdom. 
Jousts  are  invited,  with  strange  and  wondrous  tests. 

Re-enter  Gwaine. 

Givaine.  Well,  what  next? 

Arthur.  Sirrah  !  the  Queen  ! 

Gwaine.  {Doffs  his  cap.)     Morrow,  Madam. 

Arthur.  To  your  knees  !  by  my  blade,  to  your  knees  ! 

Gwaine.  By  my  legs,   I  am   no  lick-spittle   to  claw  the 
Kneel  to  your  own  woman,  I'll  to  none.  [earth. 

Arthur.  Death  !  down  on  your  life  !     {Draws.) 

Guin.  Nay,  nay  he  will  kneel. 

Gwaine.  Not  he,  King  or  other  man,  I  can  crack  a  neck. 


SC.  III.]  MORDRKI).  43 

Come  on,  give  me  a  quarteistaff  and  I'll  knock  your 
Kings  like  nine-pins. 

Gnifi.  {Gets  between.)  Nay  !    nay  ! 

Atihur.  Wilt  thou  kneel  ? 

Qivaine.  I  will  fight,  but  I  will  not  kneel. 
Not  to  mine  own  mother,  Gwaine  is  honest  but  a  i)lain  man. 

Guin.  And  thou  shalt  not  kneel,  if  thou  wilt  not. 
Thou  art  well  favored,  had'st  thou  manners. 

Uwaine.  Manners,  Madam,  like  fine  feathers, 
But  hide  the  lice  'i  the  bird. 
Gwaine  loveth  acts  not  appearances. 

Arthur.  Madam,  wilt  thou  that  I  make  him  kneel  ? 

Uui7i.  Nay,  but  grant  his  wish. 

Arthur.  What  wilt  thou,  knave  ? 

Gwaine.  That  I  be  made  a  knight. 

Arthur.  Thou  must  kneel  to  be  knighted. 

Gwaine.  Not  to  man. 

Arthur.  To  thy  God,  then. 

Gwaine.  So  be  it,  if  it  must.     {Kneels.) 

Arthur.  What  be  thy  name  ? 

Gwaine.  They  called  me  Gwaine  'i  the  Marches. 

Arthur.  Lifts  his  sword.) 

Gwaine.  {Leaps  to  his  feet.)     Wouldst  thou   hit  a   man 

[when  he  is  down  ? 

Arthur.  I  would  knight  thee,  clown,  'Tis  the  mode. 

Givaine.  Oh  !  but  be  careful  King  'i  the  doing.    {Kneels^ 

Arthur.  Art  thou  of  noble  blood  ? 

Gwaine.  Dost  thou  mean  honest — Gwaine  is  plain,  if  thou 
[meanest  'i  the  getting,  no  one  can  call  Gwaine's  mother 

[a  whore. 

Arthur.  {Raises  his  sword  and  strikes  him  with  the  flat  on 
[the  shoulder.)     Rise.  Sir  Gwaine. 


44  '  MOKDRja).  [act  II. 

(hvaine.  {Rises.)     Is  it  done,  King? 

Arthur    It  is- in  sooth. 

(iwaine.  Then  King  am  I  thine,  hut  yours   first,  Madam. 
Gwaine  is  plain  hut  honest,  I  would  have  a  sword.  King. 

Arthur.  Go,  get  thee  one. 

Gwaine,  Dost  thou  mean  it,  King  ? 

Arthur.  Yea. 

(Swaine.  (Goifig  to  the  Arras  and  ta/ci/ij^'  one  down  pro- 
\<:eeds  to  buckle  it  en.)     Then  this  one  pleaseth  me. 

Guin.  Stop,  knight  !  'Tis  the  king's. 

Gwaine.  Then  will  it  be  the  king's  still.     {Goes  out.) 

Arthur.  What  more  wouldst  thou  with  me,  my  lady  ? 

Guin.  I  would  speak  of  one  Mordred. 

Arthur.  My  son  !   what  of  him  ? 

Guin.  My  lord,  I  wquld  have  him  banished  the  Court. 
He  is  sinister  on  my  sight  and  exceeding  forward. 
I  like  him  not,  wilt  thou  promise  ? 

Arthur.   It  is  a  heavy  matter.     We  will  consider  it. 


SCENE  IV. — Enter  Elaine  and  her  retinue. 

A  Squire.  Lady,  this  is  the  place,  we  will  retire. 
Within  short  space  the  Queen  doth  come  this  way. 

[Exit  all  except  Elaine. 

Elaine.  They  say  she  is  all  goodness,  she  will  grant 
That  I  may  meet  this  noble  knight  and  fair. 
And  know  my  love  returned,  or  else  I  die. 

Enter  CjUI^^vrky.  and  ladies. 

Guin.  Lady,  what  wouldst  thou  ?   {Elaine  kneels.) 

Elaine.  Oh  most  noble  lady,  I  am  a  maid, 
Called  Elaine,  daughter  unto  Astolat's  lord. 
Who  cometh  unto  thee,  Madam,  for  kind  help 
Upon  the  matter  of  a  maiden's  love. 


5C.  v.]  MORDRED.  45 

It  rendelh  me  so,  unless  it  be  returned 
My  heart  will  burst  in  twain,  and  I  will  die. 

Guin.  Maiden,  thy  tale  is  sad,  be  thy  quest  pure, 
The  queen  will  help  thee,  be  thy  person  wronged, 
By  Arthur's  mighty  kingdom,  thou  art  'venged. 

Elaine.  Nay  Madam,  Elaine's  love  is  white  and  pure, 
And  he  she  loves  is  noble  as  any  knight 
In  all  this  kingdom.     Forgive  my  boldness,  Madam, 
And  by  that  love  thou  bearest  to  the  king, 
Our  great  lord,  high  Arthur,  help  me  now,, 
And  biing  me  to  the  face  of  him  I  love. 

Guin.  Of  truth,  thou  hast  a  boldness  in  thy  love. 
(Aside,)     There  is  an  innocence  in  this  fair  maid 
Doth  make  me  pity  her,  so  deep  in  love 
For  some  false  face  that  made  a  summer  toy 
Of  her  frank  passion.     Yea,  I  pity  her. 
(To  Elaine.)     Maiden,  to-morrow  we  do  hold  a  tourney. 
Thou  wilt  be  present  with  us  in  the  Court, 
And  thou  canst  note  the  knights  and  seek  thy  lover, 
If  he  be  'mid  the  guests  of  noble  Arthur. 

Elaine.  Oh  thank  thee,  noble  Madam,  may  kind  Heaven 
Bless  thee  in  thy  great  wifehood  to  the  King. 

Guin.  Come,  Maiden,  thou  wilt  follow  in  our  train. 

^  \Exit  all. 

SCENE  \\~The   Coutt. 

Enter  Vivien  disguised  as  a  strange  maiden^  followed  by 
men  bearing  a  (j y eat  stone  ivith  a 
sword  thrust  in  it. 

Arthur  Whence   comest   thou    unto  our  Court,  strange 
And  on  what  quest  art  thou  sentj?  [Maiden  ? 

Vivien.  Nine  days  are  past  and  gone,  most  noble  King, 
Since  thou  didst  advertise  throughout  the  land 
The  kingdom  be  opened  for  tests  at  Camelot 
And  marvellous  feats  might  here  performed  be. 


46  MORDRED.  [act  II. 

Wherefore  T,  knowing  of  that  noble  pride 

With  which  you  hold  the  flower  of  your  great  Court 

For  manhood's  purity,  woman's  chastity, 

Have  deigned  to  show  before  the  world,  great  King, 

The  truth  whereof  thou  boastest. 

Arthur.  It  is  bold  indeed,  but  Arthur  keeps  his  word. 
What  be  the  tests  ? 

Vivien.  First,  here,  to  test  thy  knighthood's  purity, 
We  bring  a  sword  sunk  fast  in  yonder  stone 
By  magic's  force,  and  he  who  plucks  it  forth 
Must  be  a  knight  who  hath  not  known  a  woman, 
Save  in  the  lawful  mode  of  marriage  bed. 
{To  Launcelot.)     Wouldst  try,  pure  Knight? 

Laun,  Yea,  I  would,  doth  great  Arthur  will, 
Though  all  the  fiends  of  hell  clutched  nether  end. 
Do  other  knights  but  make  the  trial  first. 
{A  nuniber  of  knights  come  forward^  try  to  pull  the  sword 

out  of  the  stone  but  fail. 
Launcelot  then  places  his  feet  on  the  stofie  and  grasps  the 

sword  and  pulls  with  all  his  might,  but  the  sword 

remains  fixed.) 

Arthur.  It  is  in  sooth  a  marvel  ! 

Laun.  It  seemeth  grown  therein, 
Yea,  I  will  bend  and  strain  until  it  comes. 
It  will  not  1     {Stands  to  take  a  breath.) 

Guin.  It  is  enough  ! 

Vivien.  Wouldst  thou  try  again  pure  Knight  ? 

Laun.  Yea  I  will  try  till  I  die,  if  it  come  not. 
{Tries  again,  bends  his  ivhole  strength,  then  staggers  to  his 
feet.)     Methought  the  earth's  roots  hung  thereon. 
I  am  shamed ! 

Arthur.  'Tis  enough  ! 

Vivien.  Wilt  not  try  again,  pure  Knight  ? 

Laun.  {With  set  face.)     Yea,  now  for  Camelot's  glory. 
Launcelot's  manhood  pulls  on  this  side.  Hell  on  that. 


SC.  v.]  MORDRED.  47 

(^Braces  himself  and  gives  one  terrible  /ug,  then  falls  back 
fainting.) 
Elaine.  'Tis  he  !    {rushes  out  and  falls  fainting  on  his 
breast.     The   Queen^s  women  lift  her  and  bear  her 
out.\ 

f 

■  .<•    ' ■'      ■  .->  "■     ■'   ■•:    ;  ■ 

Gui7i.  Great  Heaven  ! 

Arthur.  'Tis  enough  !  away  with  it,  Maiden,  thy  magic 
hath  outdone  our  noblest  worth. 

Vivien.  (Scornfully.)     Is  there  no  pure  man  will  make 

[trial? 

Gwaine.  (^Emerges  from  the  throng  still  dressed  in  scullions 
dress.) 

Yea,  I  will  try,  although  I  rend  the  stone. 

{Leaps  on  to  the  stone  and  plucks  the  sword  out  with  both 
hands,  with  a  s^r eat  pull,  and  waves  it  aloft  with  an 
exidtant  shout.     The  throng  starts  back.) 

How  now,  mighty  King  ? 

Arthur.  'Tis  a  great  marvel  !  ^  .  ,  .v 

Laun.  {Steps  firth.)     The  man  that  hath  done  that  must 
[face  Launcelot  to  the  death, — to  the  death  !     {Faces 

[^Gwaine  and  draws.) 

Guin.  My  God  !     {Her  maids  support  her,  she  hides  her 

\^face  in  her  mantle.) 

Gwaine.  I  would  not  slay  thee. 

Laun.     Thou    can'st    not ! — Keep    you !     {they  fight) 

\Knights  try  to  sepatate  them.) 

Arthur.  Nay,  back,  more  room !  give  them  more  room. 

{Continue fighting,  each  draws  blood,  but  neither  gives 

\way.) 

Guin.  {Aside  to  the  maids.)     Be  he  slam  ? 

A  Maid.  Neither  be  slain.  Madam. 

Arthur.  Enough  !  I  say  enough  ! 

Laun.  Sire  ! 

Gwaine.  Must  we  stop  the  exercise  ? 


48  •  MORDRED.  [act  II. 

Arthur.  It  is  enough,  you  are  both  brave  knights. 

Laun.  Gwaine,  thou  art  better  than  I. 

Gwaine.  Thou  art  the  best  I  have  met. 
Wilt  thou  take  the  hand  of  Gwaine  ? 

Laun.  Yea  I  will,  though  it  hath  pressed  me  hard. 

Arthur.  Clear  the  Court.     (^Trumpets  blow  and  the  throng 

:    Yy:^,,,     falls  back.) 

SCENE  VI. — An  outer  room  in  the   Castle — Guinevere 
walking  back  and  forth.     Enter   Launcelot,   kneels, 
would  take  her  hand. 
Laun.  Madam  !  ■::.'..  ■■■■^..i,:-'':  :v  ':^; ■■..''-; '^vtS'. •:".,.■  •^.,- 

{^Guinevere  draws  back  coldly^ 

Laun.  Madam,  what  means  this  coldness  ? 
Thou  wert  not  ever  wont  to  meet  me  thus  ? 

Guin.  Where  hast  thou  left  the  maid  of  Astolat  ? 

Laun.  Maid  of  Astolat  ! 

Guin.  Yea  that  frail  pink-and-white  that  pillowed  thy 
What  time  thou  did'st  faint,  some  slim  cowslip  miss  [breas^ 
Such  as  do  flatter  you  strong  men  by  their  weakness.  ;_ 

Go  flippant  knight  and  seek  your  skim-milk  love. 
Guinevere  v/ould  hate  thee  but  for  scorn. 
God  curse  the  day  I  ever  let  thee  love  ! 

Laun.  Madam  each  word  thou  utterest,  like  a  dagger, 
Doth  stab  with  cruel  agonies  my  heart. 
If  Launcelot  hath  sinned  in  loving  thee, 
That  love  is  maiden  unto  all  save  ihee. 
Yea  I  am  damned  daily  for  thy  face, 
And  even  thou  dost  scorn  me. 

Guin.  A  truce  of  words,  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes, 
What  all  the  Court  and  all  the  world  doth  know. 
Launcelot's  Love,  the  Maid  of  Astolat, 
Is  mouthed  by  all  ^-^ors  lips  in  all  men's  ears, 
Till  Guinevere  is  :ven  Mordred's  scorn** 
I'd  slay  thee,  were  I  only  but  a  man. 


SC.  VI.]  MORDRED.  49 

Zaun.  Madam  !  by  my  love  !  — 

Guin.  By  thy  love,  a  flimsy  foresworn  thing, 
A  toylet  of  a  moment  !  Such  as  thou  ! 
And  I !  I  gave — ,  By  Heaven  !  I  pluck  thee  out, 
And  thrust  thee  from  m.e,  thou  false  handsome  face  ! 
Thou  devil-eyed  to  lead  hearts  on  to  ruin  ! 

Laun.  Madam,  wilt  thou  not  hear  ?  I- 

Guin.  Nay,  nay,  begone  !  I  scorn  thee,  yea,  I  hate  ! 

Laun.  {Sadly.)     Yea  Guinevere  I  go,  to  come   no  more. 
It  is  well  seen  that  thou  hast  ti^ed  of  me. 
Thou  hast  driven  Launcelot  mad  !  mad  !       ^^^^\^'''Cl-'^--!-\y '":''■'- 
The  world  reels  round  me,  I  am  all  alone.  -.  . 

All  else  the  visions  of  a  noisome  dream.  -      .  ;■ 

I  am  mad,  mad,  Guinevere  ! 
And  dost  thou  smile  ?  here's  for  the  lonely  dark  I 
Ho  !  ho  1  the  world's  one  hideous  mockery. 

{Leaps  from  the  casement.) 

Guin.  Nay,  nay,  Launcelot !  Launcelot ! 
Come  back  !  1  love  thee,  I  forgive  thee  all  ! 
{Falls  on  her  face.)     Oh  Heaven  !   I  have  driven  him  away. 
Nevermore,  Oh,  never  to  return. 
O  Love  I  O  Love  !  my  maddened  heart  will  break. 
O  foolish  stars  I  why  smile  on  this  grim  night 
Lighting  the  heartless  heaven  with  your  eyes?      ^~^    .,  s 
O  foolish  birds,  why  pipe  across  the  dark,  ;i    :  "^ 

Calling  the  rosy  morn,  the  false-faced  morn,  — 

While  hearts  are  breaking  here  amid  the  dark  ? 
Launcelot !  Launcelot !  Hark  !  he  returns. 
Nay,  'tis  the  foolish  wind  wooing  the  silly  trees. 
He  never  will  return,  nor  will  forgive. 
O  poor  white  hand  !  he  nevermore  will  clasp, 
O  wayward  lips  !  he  nevermore  will  kiss. 
O  heart,  break  !  break  ! 
(Eniet  a  maid.)    Madam,  here  cometh  the  King. 

{Guin.  Rises.) 

Arthur.  Madam,  watchest  thou  alone  the  splendor  of  the 

[night.  ? 


50  MORDRED.  [aCT  II. 

Guin.  Yea,  there  is  a  burden  in  the  distant  sea, 
And  a  soft  sadness  from  the  far-off  night 
Of  ghost-winds  footing  under  the  haunted  dark. 
It  groweth  chill,  my  Lord. 

Arthur.  We  will  go  within.     {Exit  both.) 
Enter  Gwaine  and  Dagonet. 

Gwaine.  Yea,  mad  !  mad  !  stark  raving  mad,  you  say  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea,  mad.     His  eyes  were  like  balls  'o  fire. 
An'  his  face  fixed  like  he  followed  a  vision,  ^    5  -i^ 

Or  walked  'i  his  sleep.  '':-K''':'...isS' l-^-i'^^^-y^'^.^ur.t 

An'  his  hands  did  beat  the  air  the  while  he  shouted  a  war  song. 
It  hath  frighted  me  out  of  a  week's  sleep.    , 

■^-  •<■■■■■■   -      -.■■<-■■  .' 

Gwaine.  Yea,  he  is  indeed  mad.     'Tis  this  crazy  love. 
And  he  such  a  man,  the  best  'i  the  world,       ;  jJ^k:  <••  '  fA-^/ 
I  will  take  horse  and  follow  him. 
Drop  that  lanthorn,  Fool,  and  help  me  wi'  this  buskin, 
'Tis  new  to  me.     The  best  'i  the  world,  damn  this  love  !    j, 
Fool,  wert  thou  ever  in  love? 

Dagonet.  Yea,  thou  knowest  I  be  a  fool. 

Gwaine.  Then  be  wise  like  Gwaine,  Fool,  and  scorn  love; 
'Tis  but  a  mad  fever  'o  the  head  and  marrow. 
It  creepeth  in  by  the  eyes  and  spoileth  a  good  man. 
It  killeth  sleep  and  maketh  a  mock  at  feeding. 
It  heateth  the  blood  and  rouieth  caution. 
'Ware  of  love.  Fool,  an'  thou  would'st  be  wise. 

Dagonet.  Yea,  thy  words  be  like  what  the  wind  said  to 

[the  wall. 
Gwaine.  And  what  be  that  ? 

• 

Dagonet.  Stand  up  while  I  blow  thee  down  ! 
Art  thou  off  now  ?  i 

Gwaine.  Yea,  till  I  find  him. 
Tell  the  King  Gwaine  hath  ta'en  French  leave,  but  ho  will 
come  again  when  he  bringeth  the  best  man  'i  the  King- 

[dom. 


SC.  VII.]  MORDRED.  5 1 

Ho  !  without  there  !     Fool,  go  ahead  with  chat  lanthorn. 

-      '  \Curtain, 


SCENE  VII.— ir«/fr  Vivien  ^«</  MoRDRKD. 

Vivien.  Prince,  and  do  you  weaken  now  again  ? 

Mordred.  Yea,  Vivien,  I  have  only  half  a  heart 
For  this  damned  business. 

Vivien.  'Tis  but  a  lack  of  manhood  in  thy  l)lood, 
That  runs  to  water  dwelling  on  puerile  things,  -  -■ 
Like  parent-love  and  other  sickly  longings,  '    '• 

Forgotten  with  forgetting  of  the  paps.  <:  ^  ^  -;  r 

Now  me,  my  memory  knows  no  parentage     ■">;•> 
Save  circumstance  and  mine  own  nimble  wits.      '  -  ^' 
'Tis  but  our  acts  that  build  the  bridge  of  fate 
Across  this  perilous  river  men  call  life.  1 1^*'^  i^^i:; 

Some  kneel  and  l)ray,  trust  some  fond  deity, 
And  build  in  fancy  safety  for  themselves, 
Then  soon  are  churning  'mid  the  ravening  flood. 
Others  do  build  them  piers  of  solid  stone. 
Or  use  men's  bodies  for  to  tread  upon. 
These  get  the  surest  over. — Hast  seen  the  Queen  ? 

Mordred.  Ha,  that  one  name  hath  more  to  conjure  with 
Than  all  your  sophistries,  to  my  dark  soul. 
Yea,  how  I  hate  that  woman  !  I  am  but 
The  hideous  toad  that  poisons  on  her  sight. 
Though  I  may  sense  the  glories  of  this  earth 
With  all  its  wealth,  the  heaven  o'er-bridged  with  stars, 
And  know  love's  heights  and  depths,  and  pity's  well, 
Brimming  with  pearls  of  tears  and  woman's  eyes; 
I  am  but  hideous  Mordred  after  all. 

Vivien.  Yea,  in  her  eyes  art  hideous,  not  in  mine. 

Mordred.  Woman,  thou  liest !  Ic  were  natural 
To  love  the  perfect  shape  and  noble  form, 
The  sunny  face  and  splendid  laughing  eye  ; 
But  canst  thou  love  the  wry  and  gnarled  shape 
And  beetle-browed,  night-shaded  soul  like  mine  ? 


52  ,  MORDRED.  [ ACT  II 

I  am  a  toad,  a  bat,  a  gnarled  stump. 
These  hideous  in  nature  are  my  kin. 
Woman,  thou  liest,  when  thou  speakest  of  love  ! 

Vivien.  Nay,  Mordred,  do  not  scorn  me  !  Thou  'rt  a  man 
In  more  than  mere  out-seeming,  'tis  thy  fate 
Thy  whole  grim  spirit  Vivien  pitieth. 
Would'st  thou  but  love  me,  Vivien  would  be 
Thy  queen,  thy  slave,  the  'venger  of  thy  wrongs. 
That  call  to  heaven. 

Mordred.  Nay,  nay,  it  cannot  be,  thou  wastest  words. 
I  like  thee  least  in  this  strange  mood  of  thine. 
Love  is  no  word  for  Mordred,  rather  hate, 
And  thou  wert  made  for  plotting^,  not  for  joys. 
Yea,  we  will  marry  in  compact  of  ill, 
And  will  beget  as  child,  black,  black  revenge. 
This  is  my  mood. 

Vivien.  Now  thou  ait  natural,  there  is  much  to  do. 
Our  schemes  o'er-reached,  proud  Arthur's  jealousy 
As  yet  untouched,  and  Launcelot  fled  the  Court 
In  some  queer  madness.     How  likest  the  conditions  ? 

Mordred.   He  must  come  back,  I  am  a  devil  at  root. 
We'll  seethe  him  in  the  Queen's  despairs  and  sorrows. 
I  have  a  plan,— she  giveth  soon  a  feast 
Of  autumn  fruits  unto  her  favorite  knights. 
And  1  will  go,  although  she  hates  my  face. 
For  1  misdoubt  she  fears  me  even  now. 
There  is  a  joy  to  know,  if  thou  art  not  loved^ 
That  thou  canst  wield  an  mfluence  over  those 
Who  otherwise  would  pass  thee  by  in  scorn. 
Well  I  do  know  a  poison,  subtle,  sharp, 
That  when  it  bites  it  is  the  tooth  of  death. 
This  will  I  get  mserted  in  some  fruit, 
And  manage  that  one  knight  will  eat  of  it, 
Sir  Patrise,  brother  unto  that  Sir  Mador  ; 
Who  hates  the  Queen  for  that  she  scorned  his  love 
And  not  being  present  will  call  for  loud  revenge 
Upon  his  brother's  death  'gainst  Guinevere 


t 

SC.  VII.]  MORDRED.  53 

Proud  Arthur,  then,  will  call  upon  some  knight 

To  prove  her  innocence  upon  the  sword, 

And  her  extremity  makes  Launcelot  sane. 

He  will  return,  then  I  will  trap  him  with  her,  •: 

Set  Arthur  and  Launcelot  at  bitter  war. 

And  wrest  the  kingdom  from  their  weakened  hands.    ' 

This  is  my  plot,  now  for  the  working  of  it. 

Down  all  compunction  !     Mount  all  dark  resolves  I      Va 

Let  me  be  Mordred  inward  as  well  as  out,  X: 

All  inky  poison  of  soul,  even  that  I,  .  >  .     ' 

Who'd  trample  others,  must  crush  out  myself.  -■ 

Vivien    Yea,  Prince,  indeed,  'tis  seen  thou  hast  a  mind 
Of  subtle  working  fit  to  rule  a   King. 
Thou  wilt  be  greater  than  great  Arthur  yet,      ;  :-:;      l-  *5- 
When  thou  sittest  in  his  place.  v;  :x:;:-\:.ryr^x::?.-^ 

-  1  * , -        ■  -   ■■ 

>.:.       ■   ■   ■•    -'     ■'...■      .    ■'•-"*    ,v     L  •(*.   ■ 

Mordred.  Nay  woman,  tantalize  me  not  with  hopes. 
'Tis  not  the  splendid  end  that  leads  me  on.  ... 

'Tis  but  the  getting  there  that  Mordred  loves.  V% 

The  mood  of  one  who'd  trample  on  the  flowers    ,         ;';iT  !. 
In  some  fair  garden  whence  he  is  excluded.  ;    ;' 

Here  is  the  poison.    That  will  be  thy  part       ■'->:^:^'^-'-:r-:-;^f^-r0:- 
To  get  it  hidden  in  the  special  fruit,  .    : ::  ^ 

And  get  it  fed  unto  the  special  man,  ' :    .  i^^^^ 

Whose  snuffing  out  will  pander  to  our  end.      |  .  >/ji  ..^vA  y   ■ 

Vivien.  Give  me  the  poison  ! 

Mordred.  Here  it  is,  this  small  pill. 
So  petty,  but  powerful. 
Tis  wondrous  that  this  tiny  polished  globe, 
Could  hide  betwixt  the  finger  and  the  thumb, 
Hath  power  to  open  the  gateways  of  this  world, 
And  in  a  sudden  sleep  dislodge  a  soul. 
Hast  thou  an  agent  for  to  do  this  work  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  that  I  have. 
Mordred.  Not  the  fool  again  ? 
Vivien.  Yea,  the  fool ! 


VJ     - 


t 

54  X  ,  MORDRED,  [act  II. 

Mordred.  See  he  doth  this  better  than  the  last.     'Tis  the 
[more  perilous.     Thinkest  he  will  undertake  it? 

Vivien.  Yea,  he  will. 

Mordred,  By  what  compulsion? 

Vtvien,  By  that  most  powerful  of  all  most  powerful  com- 

[pulsions.     He  loveth  me. 

Mordred.  And  thou  wilt  use  him,  put  him  on  the  rack. 
Which  is  thine  influence  ? 

livien.  See  my  little  finger,  he  is  as  the  yarn 
That  I  may  wind  around  it. 

Mordred.  Thou  art  a  Devil  !   Ho  !    Ho  !    Mordred  hath 

[mirth  ! 
And  this  be  life  !    Mordred  hath  mirth,  yea,  Vivien,  mirth ! 
See  woman  that  thou  failest  not, 
Mordred  is  roused,  it  must  be. 

\_Exit  Mordred. 

Vtvien.  Ho  !   Ho  !     Thou  art  travelling  my  road  at  last. 
I  must  haste  from  hence  and  find  Dagonet. 


SCENE   V\U.—E?iter  Dagonet. 

Dagonet.  I'm  but  the  ghost  of  mine  old  former  self, 
Who  once  a  jester,  am  now  but  the  jest 
Of  some  outrageous  fortune.    Sleep  hath  fled. 
My  meat  hath  no  more  taste  unto  my  mouth. 
The  wine  but  heavy  lees  within  the  cup. 
I  am  so  held  in  love  for  Vivien, 
That  I  must  end  this  foolish  spark  o'  life. 
My  heart  leaps  up  for  joy  to  see  her  face, 
A  silly  joy,  such  as  a  child  might  have. 
Loving  some  star  for  plaything,  out  of  reach. 
Oh  what  would  I  not  do  to  even  dare 
To  press  the  velvet  of  her  dainty  hand  ! 
Back,  down,  poor  foolish  dreams  !     Now  I  must  play 
The  frothy  merriment  of  a  world  that's  grey. 


SC.  VIII.]  MORDREI).  ^     "55 

There  may  be  poison  in  the  cup 

But  still  the  foam  must  cling. 

To  keep  the  strong  world's  courage  up 

Poor  fools  must  laugh  and   sing  ;  "      >\ 

With  sobs  below  and  smiles  above, 

Amasking  day  by  day,  -.,:-;■<; 

On  trampled,  bleeding  hopes  of  love. 

So  whirls  the  world  away  !  ,         '1 


^^inf 


There  may  be  breaking  of  the  heart  " '    M  :y -%  /^ 
Though  merry  laughs  the  eye.  -      ^  ;.;    ^ 

Still  we  poor  fools  must  act  our  part,  ; ,; 

And  laugh,  and  weep,  and  die. 
V       -Still  must  we  sportive  battles  wage,       *  ^     "  V 
:;.  V        With  foam  of  lightsome  breath,     :.'.--/^'-^-::ry:^^.-::^:. 
>,,'  While  underneath  the  currents  rage         w^;  V 

And  wrecks  are  churned  to  death. 

^^^     "        JSnferYiYiEN,  D agonet  sfar/s.     ^     ''^^^    & 

Vivien.  Thou  growest  grewsome,   Dagonet ;    where  hast 

[lost  thy  mirth  ? 
Dagonet,  I  know  not,  Vivien,  I  know  not,  belike  I  am  a 
[fool  indeed.     Poor  Dagonet  is  no  more  himself. 

Vivien.  Poor  Dagonet.  ^ 

Dagonet.  Why  not  call  me  fool,  dost  thou  pity  me  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  I  do.  i^;  :  :   - 

Dagonet.  And  since  when  ? 

Vivien.  Since  I  knew  that  thou  vvert  a  man. 

Dagonet.  Dagonet,  the  fool,  a  man  ? 

Vivien.  Yea  since  I  knew  as  thou  couldst  love  indeed* 

Dagonet.  That  I  love,  Vivien,  what  knowest  thou  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  that  thou  hast  a  heart  under  thy  mask.  Yea, 
more,  for  whom  thou  hast  this  feeling,  Wouldst  thou 
win  her  grace  ? 


56  ,  MOKDRED.  [act  II. 

Dagonet.  {Fails  on  his  knees.)  Yea,  yea,  Vivien,  for  one 
look,  one  smile.  Oh  Vivien,  well  thou  knowest  I  am 
thy  slave. 

Vivien.  What  would'st  thou  do  for  my  love  ? 

Dagonet.  Thou  hast  my  heart  bare  in  thy  sight.  Write 
on  it  what  characters  thou  likest,  for  I  am  thine.  I 
tell  thee  I  am  thy  dog,  thy  slave. 

Vivien.  Not  dog,  nor  slave,  but  lover.  ( Vivien  holds  out 
\jier  hand^  Dagonet  crawls  near  and  takes  it.) 

Dagonet.  Oh  Vivien,  dost  thou  mean  this?  W 

Vivien.  Yea,  in  sooth  I  will  try  thy  love.  Would'st  thou 
[win  my  love  Dagonet  ?  ;  ,        ,  .. 

Dagonet.  Dost  thou  mock  me  ?      ,  • '  ' 

Vivien.  Nay.    {Takes  a  little  lyox  jrom   her  girdle  and 
[opens   it.)     Dost    see    this    pill  ?     {Leans    near   and 
whispers  in  his  ear.     Dagonet  starts  back!)     Nay!  nay  1  not 
[that!  .-,    .  ■ 

Vivien.  That  or  nought  I  ,  *     r .      ,, 

Dagonet.  Wouldst  thou  use  me  thus  ?      "'  •    ■  j 

Vivien.  Thou  art  the  man  who'd  win  my  love  !  I  tell  thee 
[so  must  all  who'd  love  Vivien. 

Dagonet.  Nay,  nay,  I  must  think.     This  is  indeed  death, 

[death. 

Vivien.  Yea,  death  or  nought !     I  thought  thou   wert  a 

[man  ? 

Dagonet.  For  that  reason  am  I  now  in  hell. 

Vivien.  { Takes  his  hand.)     Dagonet,  dost  thou  love  me  ? 

Dagonet.  Oh  God  !  Yea  Vivien,  give  me  the  pill,  I  am 
[not  myself  any  more.  I  am  thine,  I  will  do  it.  Vivien, 
[thou  wilt  not  fail  me  ? 

Vivien.  See  that  thou  dost  not  fail  me,  and  be  sure  that 

[thou  doest  this  well. 

Dagonet.  I  will.     '  \_Exit  Vivien 


SC.  VIII.]  MORDRED.  ,      .  r.       57 

Dagonet,  At  last  Oagonet  thou  hast  thy   wish,  and  hast 
[crossed  the  barr-er  that  separates  comedy  from  dark 
Dagonet,  now  thou  art  a  man  !  [tragedy. 

Thou  art  pitied  !  Thou  canst  win  love. 
Thou  canst  snufF  the  candle  out  o' a  life. 
Dost  know  thy  features  any  more  ?  And  all  for  love  ! 

•    »:  (Sings.)  :  . ,; 

"■■■-■■'■■'        "''  ■■'..>.,'.■- 

0  r.ove,  that  lights  this  world 

Yet  leaves  us  i'  the  dark  ; —  , 

1  led  thee  to  my  couch'  ■'^'  ■ 
A  grave-cloth  was  thy  sark  !     '  :'     > 
O  Love,  we  would  be  clothed, 
And  thou  hast  left  us  stark. 


/■ , ! '- 


.  /■  .r  ' 


'"<.  ■'  i-.'.y    ■ '« 


Yea,  I  am  on  fire.  Snow  !  snow  !  Would  I  had  snow  to  cool 

[me.    ' 
Fool,  thou  art  no  more  a  fool.     Dagonet,  thou  art  a  man  ! 
Thou  lovest.     This  must  be  done.     {G(?es  out) 

[Curtain.    ^ 


^  .■ ;     ^  ../,  ;■     ACT  III. .'■"■;:;'^V;t  ^'"  •..::-vv ..;  :,:,u  ;. 

SCENE  I.— Arthur,  Mordred,  Dagonet,  and  Nobles. 

■'■'A",     '  .  .■"■'•■"..'?.''- 

,    :  '.^^     :     Enter  the  QuEEVi  in  great  trouble. 

Enter  Knights  bringing  in  a  dead  body  and  crying  Treason/ 

Treason  ! 

(The  Queen  takes  her  State.) 

Arthur.  Who  would  accuse  the  Queen  ? 

Sir  Mador.  'Tis  I,  my  Liege. 

Arthur.  What  be  the  substance  of  thine  accusation  ? 

Sir  Mador.  Murder !    Sire,    murder  I     most    foul    and 

[treacherous  I 

Other  Knights.  Yea,  murder,  foul  and  treacherous  ! 
Arthur.  On  whom  ? 


58  ' \  ,  ;^  MORDRET).  '  [act  III. 

Sir  Mador.  On  the  body  of  this  knight,  my  brother,  Sir 

Patrise,  whom  thou  knowest  to  have  been  a  courteous  knight 

of  much  steadfastness  to  thee  and  the  Court.  ^ 

Arthur.  It  is  most  strange.     Relate  the  circ  imstances. 

Sir  Mador.  'Twas  at  the  banquet,  Sir  King,  where  we  all 
invited  of  thy  Queen,  the  Madam  Guinevere,  who  sitteth 
there,  and  after  meat,  she  with  much  courtesy  of  seeming, 
did  press  on  us  to  partake  of  some  fruit,  the  which  on  par- 
taking of,  my  brother,  this  dead  knight,  did  tall  in  ae;ony  so 
extreme  and  mortal;  that  his  soul  went  out,  and  now  he  lieth 
as  thou  see'st  him. 

Other  Knights.  Yea,  'tis  true,  'tis  as  fte  saith,  a  most  foul 
'^  .    :^  [and  damnable  murder. 

Atthur.  {Turns  to  the  queen.)     Madam,  what  sayest  thou 

:'     ■  ^i    ;       ""'  [to  this  accusation  ? 

Guin.  'Tis  a  false  foul  lie.     I  am  innocent  of  this  deed. 
Dagonet.  (Aside,)     Yea, 'tis  true  !  •      - 

Arthur.  Thou  see'st  this  dead  knight  here  and  these  wit- 

[nesses,  as  I  am  King  I  must  see  justice,  even  against 

Hast  thou  no  other  defence  to  offer?  [thee. 

Guin.  Nay,  my  lord,  as  I  am  the  Queen,  'tis  a  most 
damnable  lie.  'Fore  Heaven,  I  am  innocent  of  this  strange 
murder.         .,;,■„.:  ,.  •■;■,;:;..'  ,-.       : ,  ■'  ■■•■,;■■■,■.•■    ';;■:,..-•,-'.■":,.; 

Dagonet.  [Aside.)     Now  is  my  soul  in  flames  !    ^      "    , 

Sir  Mador.  According  to  our  ancient  laws,  when  a  guest 
dies  in  this  most  suspicious  manner,  where  proof  of  grievous 
intent  is  present,  the  accused  is  condemned  to  be  burnt  at 
the  stake. 

Guin.  Great  Heaven  ! 

Arthur.  'Tis  a  foul  punishment. 

Sir  Mador.  But  for  a  foul  crime. 

Other  Knights.  Yea, 'tis  but  justice. 

Arthur.  There  is  also  a  trial. 

Mordred.  Yea,  Sire,  the  accused  being  a  woman  must 


SC.    I.]  \  ,  MORDRED.  fjf* 

have  a  knight  to  prove  her  innocence  by  his   body  on  the 
body  of  the  accuser  ere  the  time  of  denth  be  acconii)hshed. 

Arthur.  Then  be  it  so.  The  law  must  follow  on  the 
weight  of  these  many  witnesses.  {Turning  to  the  Queen.) 
Guinevere,  Queen  of  Britain,  1  believe  thee  guiltless  of  the 
crime  whereof  thou  art  accused,  as  thou  hast  said.  As  King 
I  am  not  free  to  prove  thine  innocence  with  my  body,  but 
as  the  King,  unless  thou  procurest  a  knight  to  assoil  thee 
ere  the  time  appointed,  I  here  condemn  thee  to  be  taken 
hence  to  a  place  of  public  note  and  there  be  burnt  to  death, 
as  the  law  requireth. 

Guin.  Oh  Great  Heaven  !     (Falls  in  a  swoon.) 

Arthur.  Sir  knight,  art  thou  satisfied? 

Sir  Mador.  Yea,  on  my  body.     -     .   - 

Arthur.  Then  clear  the  Court.    »  \Exit  Knights. 

Madam,  this  is  the  heaviest  hour  of  all  my  life. 

G^dn.  [Supported  by  her  ladies.)     Yea,   my  lord,   thou 

>    [wilt  save  me?  .  .       ... 

\,        •- 

Arthur.  That  I  will,  in  all  justice.     Ho,   there,  without  ! 

.■;/  .;-■■  ^-      ■"  ,,  ''V;  ,':'•     Enter  a  Page.        -v;,...'.      '\'  :\'-      .    '-.'- 

Bring  me  Sir  Hake  on  the  instant.  {Enter  Sir  Hake.) 

Arthur.  I  command  that  this  stern  sentence  on  the  body 
of  the  noble  Queen  be  proclaimed  widely,  and  that  mes- 
sengers be  sent,  on  pain  of  death,  to  find  Sir  Gwaine  and 
Sir  Launcelot,  that  if  they  be  not  procured  here  within  the 
present  month,  that  the  messengers  pay  the  penalty  with 
their  bodies. 

Sir  Hake.  Yea  Sire,  it  will  be  done.  [Exit. 

.  Arthur.  And  thou,  my  Queen,  retire  to  your  apartments, 
I  will  come  shortly  to  you.  Keep  up  thy  heart,  as  thou  art 
innocent  so  will  Heaven  help  thee. 

Guin.  Yea,my  Lord,  thou  wilt  save  me,  as  I  am  innocent. 

\Exit  Guinevere  and  her  ladies. 


6o         ;     I  •  ',         MORDRED.  ;  [aCT  III. 

Arthur.  Ho,  Page,  bring  wine,  (aside)  I  would  forget  my 

.::,-v-'  '^r?;:-??' ■  ^.n^';;-"  ,;.;:  [sorrow. 

Bring  wine  !  I  say,  and  send  hither  my  fool !      [Exit  Page. 

;.-/,„i.,. ;.•■;,,-. -,,l..,  .  ^.  :..,.     Enter  Dagohki.         ■..-     -    %^. ■,■/■■  :.•-■; 

Arthur.  Fool,  I  would  forget  my  heaviness.     Make  me 

r^^^k,li  ■^^--  ■;  ■  '-f  .■:<yM\.-:-  -■ .-:  :: :.  .^'-r^  ■  :  -M'    [merry. 

Dagonet,  (Aside.)     Oh  God  !  (To  the  Ktng.)     Yea,  Sire, 

■;'^^-vo   *     V       ^       :^-      -      -  [what  would'st thou  have ? 

Arthur,  Some  music.  v      "  '  '   ' 

2>«^o?ie^.  Yea,  Sire.     (Sings) 

Blue  is  the  summer  morning's  sky, 

And  birds  are  glad  and  merry. 
■  And  Anna's  eyes  are  sweet  and  sly. 

Her  cheeks  like  any  cherry  ; —   - 

Her  lips  like  dewy  rosebuds  are 

Upon  the  gladsome  morning. 
•    She  is  my  love,  my  heart's  glad  star, 
7:0:?^   '   In  spite  of  all  her  scorning. 

;,  i,'  'o  V  So  fill  the  cup  of  gladness  up 

.   '  And  drink  to  youth  and  morning. 

''    .  Let  sadness  go  with  evenmg  su[),    -^ 

^.y ;'.'■?  J    .:  I'm  hers  fur  all  her  scorning.  ^^     . 

Arthur.  Would  I  had  thy  merry  heart,  Fool.  .     -.   >     . 

Dagonet.  Yea,  Sire !  '  '^ 

SCENE  II. — Launcelot   discovered  seated  almost  naked 

amid  sivineherds.  .<..; 

(Launcelot  sings.)         -:  • 

Once  there  was  a  castle  hall, 
Fair,  fair  to  see. 

Armored  dight,  and  splendored  all, 
Filled  w4th  shout  o'  revelry. 
Came  the  hosts  o'  fate  and  rage 
Thundered  on  its  walls  amain. 
Sunken  now  like  ruined  age, 


SC.    II.]  O;  MORDRED.  \'-^"0.  .'i;.'-i  '     6 1 


;,'  ,  i        Never  laughs  its  light  again.            >  ,  ;     ;  ^.; 

;  :               I  loved  a  Queen  and  she  loved  me.  '  , 

.,      Aye,  that  were  long  ago  I  :uv'\-Ha-: 

|,  Come  now  wrack,  come  now  woe,  -v  V,  ^; 
•:       Strike  now  liahtninc,  beat  now  snow  !  ,       '  ;r 
Memory,  I'll  ha'  none  o  thee  ! 

Ha!  ha!  Cowards,  who'll  fight?  (rises).     Ha!  Ha!    * 


■t  I .' 


'  ^i^e?' rt  Knight. 

Knight.  Who  be  this  ?        '       ■-  v     ..  ,    v'  v  --  ^-^ '  ' 

is^  Swineherd.   Him  be  mad  though  him  hurt  us  not,  for 
[us  be  soft  wi'  him,  him  tend  a'  swine.       -^     v     r'    ,-■''■' 

2nd  Swineherd.  Him  mun  fight,  but  us  not  answer.   Him 
•  '     •  -^  [be  o'er  hulk  a  man  twa  hanle  a  staff, 

Laun.  Winds  are  cold  and  flowers  are  dead.     All  is  past, 

[past ! 

Knight.  Ho  there,  who  be  thou  ? 

Latin.  'Tis  an  old  world,  an  old, old  world.  I  tell  thee  truth, 
I  loved  a  Queen,  but  that  be  long  past.  » 

Knight.  His  wits  be  dull. — Who  art  thou  fellow  ?    "  '  ^V 

Latm.  It  hath   been   never  Summer  this  many  a  year. 

-;fcv-'^/A'-  .V  >  .-  [Can'st  tell  me  why  ? 

Knight.  'Tis  Summer  now,  thou  Fool  ! 

Laun.  Nay  nay,  'tis  but  Winter.     I   loved  a  Queen 

Knight.  Oh,  damn  thy  Queen  !  who  art  thou  ? 

Laun.  Yea,  damn  all  Queens,  I  am  with  thee,  Friend, — 

[wilt  thou  fight  ? 
Knight.  Not  with  thee. 

Laun.   Damn  thee  !  thou  wilt  I 

Knight.   I  tell  thee  I  wont.  -,^.v - 

Laun.    rhen  damn  thee  !  take  t^sat  !  {Knocks  him  diwn.) 

Knight.  Oh  !  oh  !  I  am  murdered  ! 

Laun.  More  !  more  ! 


62  ,  MORDRED.  TaCT  III. 

■  ■  .■.-.■  -''   .■'■■:-■•'  •- 

Enter  GwMiiE.  ■':  -  t^i'^'-'^l'^v:? 

Gwaine.  Ha,  at  last,  it  seemeth  !  '        '      •  ' 

1st  Swineherd.  Have  care,  Master  !  Him  be  dread. 

Gwaine.  How  long  hath  he  been  like  this?       ,,    - 

2nd  Swineherd.  '  Tis  some  time  agone.     At  first  him   did 
An'  bite  hisself,  but  him  be  better  now.  [tear  the  earth 

Laun.  1  chased  the  moon  the  silly  moon,  y   < 

Ahihd  a  willard  tree.  -    .  .:,^--    ,    -    V  ^^    y-yy'- 

1  knocked  the  stars  like  nine-pins  down,    .      -       .  /'-:     .' 
One,  two,  three.  . ,    *  •:.    ;  :■  »-. 

I  loved  a  Queen.    Ha!  ha!  'tis  Winter. 

Givaine.  And  this  be  he,  the  best  o'  Arthur's  Court, 
A  ragged  ninny,  mouthing  wanton  froth, 
The  sport  o'  pig-folk,  this  be  love's  good  work,   '    '^ 
Oh  Love  !  thou  hast  much  to  answer  !  . , 

1st  Swineherd.   Him  want  alius  twa  foight.   '  '■ 

Gwaine.  Yea,  he  spoileth  for  a  bout,  'tis  often  a  right  cure. 
I  will  try  it,  God  give  it  may  bring  him  round. 
(7'o  Launcklot.)     Ho  there,  Fellow  ! 

Laun.  Ho  thyself.  Windbag.     Thou  hast  a  fine  voice, 
Cari'st  thou  call  back  memory  ?  ,  [Friend. 

Gwaine.  Yea  I  can.  I  - 

Laun.  Can'st  thou  find  Spring  time  ?  I  loved,  I  loved, — 

Gwaine.  Oh  damn  love — dost  thou  know  me  ? 

Laun.  Know  rhee  ?  know  thee  ?  I  know  thou  art  a  man. 

[Wilt  thou  fight,  Friend  ? 

Gwaine.  With  a  merry  good  will. 

Laun.  Then  lets  to  't. 

Gwaine.  {Takes  a  quarter  staff,  they  fight  hard  and  long.) 
Gwaine  belabors  Launcelot  on  the  head,   back  and 

[shoulders. 

Laun.  Ha,  it   raineth   thoughts   now.     Come   on    Hell, 

[come  on. 


'•,;■:.-,,   *;,<.>..,.;;>,./. 


SC.  II.]  MORDRED.  63 

Gwaine.  Yea,  am  I  coming,  (hits  h%m  harder.  If  I  beat 
that  damned  love  out  o'  him  I  will  do  him  a  good 
deed.     How's  that  and  that  ? 

Laun.  And  that,  and  that.     {Both  fight  till  exhausted.) 

Gwaine.  Launcelot,  dost  know  thyself  now  ? 

Laun.  Methinks  I  partly  do,  under  a  cloud. 

Gwaine.  And  dost  thou  know  me  ? 

Laun.  Methinks  thou  art  the  moon. 

Givaine.  Damn,  this  love  !  If  I  be  the  moon  thou  shalt 
find  me  no  honeymoon,  {hits  him  again,)  {they  fight 

'-'    '■  '■/^-'':'    '■,.•■/■•  ^ ■■'-■"''■■ .  ' -''     .'■-■  ■■^■■■i-  ^fiercer. 

Laun.  Come  on,  thou  art  welcome.     Oh  ! 

Gwaine.  Well,  dost  thou  know  me  yet  ?    '"'"''   ■     •  ' 

Laun.  Methinks  thou  art  one  named  Gwaine.     Oh  my 

[bones ! 

Gwaine.  Be  this  Winter?        .       ; 

Laun.  I  be  warm  now.  -,     '  . 

Gwaine.  An  dost  thou  love  a  Queen  ? 

Laun,  What  mean'st  thou  ? 

Gwaine.  I  would  rid  thee  of  this  damned  love. 

Laun.  Then  wouldst  thou  rid  me  of  this  life.  Gwaine, 
tl^ou  art  a  noble  soul,  but  thou  can'st  not  do  that. 

Gwaine.  Art  thou  thyself  now  ?  .   -^^ 

Laun.  Methinks  I  am — Yea  I  have  been  mad. 

Gwaine.  Yea  and  I  have  cured  thee.     Come,  this  be  no 

Let  us  go.  -i.   s-::^'  y  ^     ;;  ^/5 -;^:       [P^^^^- 

\X7-^.^..;u  ■- vy.;^^-im-^-'^^  ::^^^^^^^  '  '■■^I'T       \Exithoth. 


■iil^ 


SCENE  III. — Another  part  of  the  forest. — Launcelot  and 

Gwaine. 

Gwaine.  Launcelot,  thou  art  a  fool.     Thou  art  the  King's 


64        ■        •      .      .       MORDREi).  Tact  III. 

).ii     man,  and  the  best.     Thou  hast  an  arm  and  a  sword  on 
> -v^^.-. .  Thou  must  come.     I  will  no  longer  here. 

Lami.  I  may  not,  this  hurt  be  too  deep. 

Givaine.  Damn  thy  hurt,  man  !  thou  art  sound  as  I. 

Laun.  'Tis  a  deep  hurt,  Launcelot  fights  no  more.  Here 
will  I  die.  '>'"'-  '^:;.  .;'^i-!'.:'   \    :-  '■^..    v-r--;        '■  .'^  ■ 

(iwaine^  Better  go  a  Monk,  thou  art  a  fool,  Man.  This 
love  is  a  girl's  folly.  Fighting  is  a  man's  trade  and 
his  sword  his  true  mistress.  Gwaine  will  have  no  other. 
Come,  thou  art  not  dead  yet. 

Laun.  Aye  Gwaine  thou  wastest  words,  Launcelot  is 
ended.     ./,::,      -,'.*,■ -.-^'..-^  -;■-.,  <:..-;.^'',^   ■^•.  ,..'*■   ....v  .. 

Gwaine,  Damn  thee  !  I  gave  my  word  I  would  bring  thee, 
will  I  have  to  go  foresworn  else  carry  thee  on  my  back. 
■  ■     Have  I  cured  thy  madness  but  for  this  ? 

Laun,  Nay,  nay,  make  peace  best  thou  canst.  Thou  art 
a  good  fellow,  but  I  cannot.     Launcelot  will  die  here. 

Gwaine.  I  say,  damn  thee,  thou  shalt  come  ! 

Laun,  Thou  liest !  {both  spring;  to  their  feet  and  draw ^ 
{Trumpets  without,)     {Enter  the  King's  Messengers.) 

G^vaine,  Who  comes?     ^  ;f.   >  .  ;  J  -    ;     ''  .:      -.    ;•  / 

Mess,  From  the  King.  v:  :  t)  /        ,  ;        '■       \ 

Gwaine,  What  want  ye  ? 

Mess,  We  seek  two  knights.  Sir  Launcelot  and  Sir 
Gwaine.  ... -,.^. ,.,....,;,,.:,,. .  ,,,....,,.......,,.,_,..,, 

Gwaine.  We  be  thy  men — what  be  thy  message? 

Mess.  The   King    desireth     thee     in    great    haste,  the 

Queen  be  in  great  peril.  v,>;>.v.  '^'-^..v^y^^^Cr-:-^-''-'---^-'-'-':-- 

Laun.  Nay  ! 

Mess.  Yea,  of  her  life.  She  be  condemned  to  the  stake 
if  a  knight  assoil  her  not  with  his  body  on  her  accuser 
tomorrow  noon. 

Iximi,  Dread  Heaven  ! 


SC.  Ill  ]  MORDRED.  65 

Gwatne.  What  be  the  accusation?       !l   .     ;,>.    ..•,-■* 
Mess.  Murder  on  the  body  of  Sir  Patrise.  "  ' 

Laun.  Enough!  hast  thou  brought  horses  ?   ■,   -  :  : 
Mess.  Yea.  , 

Laun.  Then  quick  !  on  your  lives !  lead  us  hence  ! 

\Exit  Launcelot  and  Messengers. 

Gwaine.  The  foul  fiend  take  this  love  !  It  be  a  queer 
sickness  indeed.  Anon  it  made  him  like  to  luke 
water,  and  now  he  be  all  fire.  It  bldweth  now  up  now 
down,  like  the  wind  i'  a  chimney.  Yea  1  love  that 
man  like  a  father  his  child.  There  is  no  sword  like  to 
his  i'  the  whole  kmgdom.  An'  a  wench  that  be  a 
queen  leadeth  him  like  a  goss-hawk.     {Voices  ivithout.) 

Yea,  I  am  coming.     '  \Exit. 


SCENE  IV. — (^w/^/- Court-ushers  with  trumpets^  Soldiers 
and  Knights.  Enter  the.  King  :  takes  his  State.  Enter 
the  Queen  in  a  black  robe  surrounded  by  her  Women, 
(onus  to  the  foot  of  the  Throne^  falls  on  her  face.) 

Guin.  Arthur,  thou  wilt  save  nn^?  ,       -^ 

Arthur.  My  Queen,  as  the  kinj:  I  may  not.     My  heart  is 
Put  thy  trust  in  Heaven.  [hell. 

Guin.  'Tis  a  dread  death.  -, 

Arthur.  Madam,  could  Arthur  pave  thee  he  would.     If 
y\     thou  diest  so  doth  my  joy  in  this  world— keep  thy 
":      heart.    ^    ,.    ■■  --:■■■-■  '■■':'■  -v'^-'--,  :r-"--,-  -•'•••^-  ^;  ^- 

Guin.  'Fore  God,  I  am  innocent.  '''\  ^  '       '     M 

Arthur.  Thou  must  trust  to  Heaven. 

Guin,  That  I  do.    {rises  and  takes  her  state.) 

Court  Chamberlain.  Guinevere,  Queen  of  Britain,  of  this 
dread  crime  whereof  thou  art  accused  what  hast  thou 
to  say  ? 


-.-ri''' 


$^  .  MORDRED.  -  [act  III. 

■         .     ..  ■'     ,  ,     .   '  ^      ■,'■■..     ^ 

Guin.  (Ibises)  That  I  Guinevere,  Queen  of  Britain,  am 
innocent  of  this  most  foul  charge  of  which  I  am  here 
accused,  and  here  call  on  Heaven  to  prove  on  the 
body  of  that  foul  knight  mine  accuser. 

Marshalls  enfer  and  trumpets  are  blown. 

Court- Chambet lain.  Doth  no  knight  assoil  the  Queen? 

Guin.  Heaven  help  me  ! 

Arthur.  Do  no  knights  approach  ?  • 

.,  Page.  Nay,  Sire. 

Arthur.  Then  has  the  hour  of  my  life's  sorrow  come. 

Enter  Sir  Mador  doffs  to  the  King. 

Sir  Mador.  Sire,  the  time  hath  almost  passed  and  I 
demand  a  knight  to  do  no  battle,  or  that  the  Queen  be 
burnt. 

Guin.  (Aside)  Merciful  Heaven  ! 

Arthur.  [To  the  Page)  Do  none  come  ? 

;;:;  Page.  Nay,  Sire.    ^-^^  '-f ■'::;. 

:.  Dagonet.  Were  I  not  bound  to  Vivien  body  and  soul,  I 
would  state  the  truth.  Nay  I  am  accursed.  There  is  but 
one  way.  {staggers  to  the  front  of  the  throne  the 
throng  presses  back  in  wonder.)  .. 

Dagonet.  {Kneels)  ^\xq  \       ^    ^    ,        ♦        -      >    .  ; 

:  Arthur,  {tn  voice  of  thunder.)     Well  fool  ?  •      ' 

Dagonet.  Didst  thou  noc  once  make  me  a  knight  ? 

Arthur.  Yea,  in  a  moment  of  jest. 

Dagonet.  Then  would  I  take  this  gage  !  n^fe     .J- 

Guin.    Nay,  nay,  death,  death,  but  not  this  insult  I  C^ '^"  • 
What  base  knight  of  this  court  hath  prompted  this?     ..j^v  v, 

Dagonet.  None,  none  my  Lady,  'tis  my  wish.  ;>rr;  ^^^^H 

Arthur.  Take  him  out!     Now  is  Arthur  shamed  !  ^vt%<^ 

Uiiii   '  ILmghXs  hurry  XyAGO^ET  out.  v!) 

Dagonet.  {Aside)  Now  is  Hell  indeed  my  portion. 


SC.  v.]  '         ,    .  MORDRED.  !  . 

^   Guin.  Sire,  I  would  now  die.  %^|;1  <.:  ■;  i       1 

Arthur.  Yea,  my  Queen,  so  would  Arthur.  T  -  ..   *?. 

^S/r  Mador.  Sire,  the  time  be  up.  And,  I,  as  the  accuser, 
now  ask  that  thou,  as  King,  wilt  command  that 
Guinevere,  Queen  of  Britain,  who  standeth  there,  be 
taken  from  hence  and  burnt  till  she  be  dead. 

A    com. notion   without^    Launcelot  rushes  in  draws  and 

\ faces  Sik  Mador. 

Laun.  And  I  say,  nay  !     ^  v-  <  :    k  •.« 

":.<•'■:!'  ;':,-l-  ■■'::-■  ";;;v:^,:      \Curtain. 


w  »;; 


SCENE  v.— Enter  Mordred. 

Mordred.  Now  cursed  be  the  womb  that  gave  me  birth  I 
Thrice  cursed  be  the  paps  that  gave  me  suck  !  . 

That. I  tjut  made  for  hellish  plots  and  hates,  '  '  v^/  .  i 

And  inky  thoughts  and  moods  and  black  despairs,       ,     "J  ^ 
The  most  unhappy  man  in  this  dread  woild,  ,7    - 

Should  hous^  in  me  a  dream  of  womanhood      ;    ""  '  " 
Such  as  doth  dwell  in  all  the  milk-white  glory 
And  glamored  stateliness  of  Arthur's  Queen. 
Yea  would  I  now  forego  all  I  hold  dear  .    v    ^  ..'    T 

In  this  life  and  the  next,  if  such  there  be,       '? '■  V  i;   ,r  , 
My  chance  of  Heaven  thrust  to  darkest  Hell,  '  ^'^    -"^^^^^ 
One  hour  like  Launcelot  to  know  her  love.  -  s^s 

Hell  !  Hell  !  I  laugh  at  Hell,  such  flames  I  burn      ^^^^  ?:  ^ 
Would  scorch  the  northern  ice-seas  in  their  beds. 
So  deep  a  hell  1  hold  me  in  my  thoughts 
Of  madness  for  her  love. — Yea  I  am  turned 
A  verv  subtle  Satan  that  will  plot 

High  Arthur's  downfall,  Launcelot's  banishment,  <>-i,_'  ^^ ' 
And  all  the  ruin  of  this  present  kingdom. 
Yea,  I  will  be  a  King  and  perch  a  crown 
In  its  unsteady  poisings  on  this  brow. 
So  that  by  very  glamor  of  my  power 
And  inner  majesty  of  mine  iron  soul, 
I  build  in  her  a  fancy  for  my  person. 


68  .  ;        .'.  MORDRED.  TaCT  III. 

'■.■'■,.■•■■■''' 

For  I  am  Mordred,  in  this  hour  I'm  great       ;;  i.;;'  -^^     "''^v 

In  subtle  cunning  far  beyond  these  days        '■''^'"'"'\-,v'/^v^: ' 

Of  mere  brute  strength  and  stature  physical. —        ,?    ,  ;  ' 

Yea  I  was  born  upon  an  evil  time  ,,  , 

Of  evil  parentage  of  sin  and  shame 

Tlirice  cursed  in  the  inner  soul  and  form, 

What  sportive  fate  gave  me  the  gifts  I  hear  ?  , 

But  I  am  willed  to  use  them  to  my  use.  " 

Yea  I  will  use  all  deviltries  and  lies, 

All  plots  and  counter- plots  to  gain  mine  end. 

This  misbegotten  now  doth  hold  the  key 

To  this  doomed  kmgdom.  • 

,.^     '.'"-''':{ V/^\.     E flier  Vivmis.  ;■■.■'_:'";.    "      ,.    ,     , 

We  are  well  met.  Thou  art  upon  the  hour.  .  \      *    - 

The  plot  grows  closer  to  our  waited  end.  -;  " 

The  net  is  weaving  closer  mesh  by  mesh  .  ,       . » 

That  traps  the  leopard  and  the  lioness.  ;       •     ,    .';   , 

I  have  by  long  connivance,  secret  planned. 

Built  round  me  many  knights  who  hold  my  weal,        : 

Jealous  of  Launcelot  and  Arthur's  glory. 

These  will  be  with  me  when  the  stroke  comes  down.       .,  • 

A  thousand  swords  will  leap  their  scabbard  mouths     ,.    :..\ 

At  shout  of  Mordred  !  Yea  a  thousand  throats  .    .  ^  v 

Will  cry  me  King  when  my  fate  topples  Arthur.  ;  - 

Vivien.  Now  art  thyself,  this  be  thy  natural  mood. 
Yea  Mordred  when  thou  kingest  it,  there  will  be     i*   ]  ik  0 
A  splendid  thraldom  to  true  kingliness.  -       .»;  ?^ 

For  thou  wilt  sink  a  terror  in  men's  hearts    1  k  t'   .  s?  5J;-'>i 
Of  King's  prerogatives  will  make  them  fear  tc^  cv  .; 
The  very  sound  and  rumor  of  thy  name. 
And  there  will  go  before  thee  waves  of  will 
Presaging  thunders  of  thy  royal  coming. 
But  wilt  thou  then,  my  Lord,  remember  Vivien, 
When  thou  dost  come  unto  thy  royalty,  ^  ,*; 

Her  who  did  place  thy  footsteps  in  the  way 
That  led  thee  to  these  gateways  of  success. 
And  bade  thee  trample  on  thy  youthful  fears, 


.  :*  -i 


SC.  v.]  ,  MORDRKD.  .69 

And  doubts  and  milksop  fancies  of  the  mind,      -  :' 

And  gave  into  thy  hand  an  iron  mace, 

And  bade  thee  use  it?     Wilt  thou  think  on  her,       '  ' 

The  only  one  who  loved  thee  for  thyself,  '■'"■■     ' 

The  single  soul  that  knew  thee  in  the  dark,     . 

And  loved  thee  for  thy  nobler  qualities?  -         '  ' 

Mordred.  What  wouldst  thou  have  me  promise  ? 
Vivien.  I  would  be  a  Queen  !  ,.;..>' 

Mordred.   Ha!  thou  climbest  high  !     .    ':     -,  ;  .  .. 
Be  careful  or  thy  stairway  • '       i    - .  '• 

In  toppling  over  carry  thee  to  Hell,     {aside) 
This  be  her  trend  I  must  match  cunning  with  cunning, 
And  tie  this  serpent  in  her  venomed  coils. 
Were  she  a  man,  I  would  admire  her  much,  ^ 

But  not  as  woman  !  She  be  Mordred's  Queen, 
When  Queen  of  women  there  be  one  Guinevere  ! 
{To  Vivien)  When  I  am  King  thou   wouldst  then   be  the 

Queen  ? 
'Tis  a  daring  thought  !  •  ^  . 

Vivien.  Not  more  than  that  thou  bearest,  ! 

That  Mordred,  squat  and  monster,  lorn,  despised, 
Misgotten,  friendless  save  to  such  as  me. 
Should  rise  in  dreams  to  heights  of  Arthur's  glory,  • 

And  even  lust  to  bed  with  Guinevere.  .      >  .' 

Mordred.  What  now  ?  Thou  devil  !  '        ■ 

^  Vivien.  Ha  !  Now  I  stabbed  thy  longings  to  the  quick. 
And  probed  thine  ink-heart. — Thou  dost  love  the  Queen, 
Thou,  who  doth  dwell  so  far  below  her  scorn  ! 

Mordred.  Witch-hag  or  Devil  !  Wert  thou  but  a  man,    y 
And  I  would  quickly  send  thee  to  that  hell     -       "; 

Where  thou  belongest.  w//t    v  ^\  >i\r  - 

yivien    Nay,  I  fear  thee  not.^;^^^^-  c^4<-fki^%*"r;^^'7i; 

I  am  too  much  a  part  of  all  thy  plans 
For  thee  to  quarrel  with.      Stab  me  and  thou  stabbest 
The  life  of  all  thy  longings.  Let  my  blood. 
And  with  it  flows  the  making  of  thy  dreams. 


70  MORDRED.  '  ,  [aCT  III. 

Afordred.  (Aside)  'Tis  as  she  says.     She's  woven  in  my 
And  I  must  keep  her,  devil  though  she  be.  [web 

Yea,  Mordred  !  Mordred  !     (71;  Vivien.)        m'     ;  :;  i  /  •. 
Vivien  thou  art  hasty,  i      ^  ^  i 

In  dreaming  Mordred  would  do  thee  an  evil.  ,'  , 

'Twas  but  the  sudden  mantling  of  the  blood. 
Yea,  I  indeed  do  owe  thee  overmuch, 
And  Mordred  will  pay  thee  with  what  gratitude 
Of  words  and  acts  as  such  as  he  possesses. 
Yea,  when  my  mind  dwells  on  the  what  I  was, 
And  that  which  I  now  am,  an  admiration 
Sudden  and  great,  comes  o'er  me  at  the  change, 
And  the  swift  transformation  thou  hast  made.     ■• 
Thou  took'st  a  youth  from  out  his  sickly  longings^        .    . 
Vague  undefined  with  musings  on  this  world,  / 

And  sick  with  evil  of  a  shadowed  fate,  ' 

Dried  up  his  kindness,  showed  him  he  was  iron, 
And  gave  the  keys  of  cruelty  to  his  hand  .      > . 

Wherewith  to  pick  the  lock  of  this  poor  kingdom. 
Yea,  I  am  wrapt  in  admiration  vast.        '        >    • 
Then  I  would  shudder  did  an  evil  thought. 
Wandering  vaguely  through  my  caverned  mind, 
But  stop  and  grin  me.     Now  it  seems  mine  act 
Would  neck  and  neck  with  Hell's  most  foul  desire.  ' 

Yea,  thou  hast  right  in  pride  of  workmanship  '  -   '   • 

In  building  from  material  thou  hadst  '  ,       '    ;   /  • 

So  deft  a  moulded  villain  to  thy  hand.  "^      .v>  iM 

Yea,  Vivien,  fear  not  Mordred  will  forget,         ^  Kr       ,    -  V 
When  every  waking  moment  on  his  bed,       -r  ;}>  yv  ;^v.J  J^f^A 
And  every  devil  knocking  on  his  sill, 
Mindeth  him  of  cause  for  gratitude.  ,    . 

Vivien.  Wilt  thou  promise.-* 

Mordred.  Nay,  I  will  never  piomise  ! 
What  right  have  I  for  pledges  in  this  world, 
Save  pledge  that  I  will  topple  all  to  ruin. 
This  give  I  Fate,  as  sure  as  I  am  Mordred. 
I  tell  thee,  Woman,  I  am  thy  slave  no  more, 
Nor  slave  to  any,  be  it  man  or  devil. 


■''•.^ 


'.,'>) 
1 1 


SC.  v.]  MORDRED.  /         7t 

;    Vivien.  What  art  thou  then  ?  '  .  v 

Mordred.  I  am  thy  master.    Thou  wilt  be  my  slave, 
Thou  cunning  plotter,  schemer  to  my  hand, 
To  be  my  dagger,  poison,  flaming  brand. 
My  very  slave,  convenience,  creature,  tool  ; 
And  if  thou  art  not,  I'll  trample,  trample  thee. 
I  tell  thee  I  will  thrust  this  kingship  out ; 
Will  spin  these  actors  round  my  crooked  thumb. 
Until  this  devil  Mordred  walketh  king. 
Little  didst  thou  dream,  what  demon  thou  wert  raising, 
Vhen  thou  didst  conjure  Mordred. 

Vivien,  Darest  thou  me  ? 

Mordred.  Yea,  look  into  my  glass  and  ask  thyself. 
What  Mordred  hath  in  life  to  hope  or  fear  ? 
But  I  do  tell  thee,  Woman,  Mordred  in  hell 
Will  be  no  tortured  creature  spinning  round,  ' 

But  himself  the  very  devil. 
To  show  my  power  of  evilment,  I  tell  thee, 
I  know  thy  fatal  liking  for  myself.    -^^^       - 
'Tis  the  one  part  of  thee  that  now  can  suffer,       .  ;  : 

The  only  part  of  thee  that  holdeth  good. 

Vivien.    Nay,  I  will  not  hearken. 
Mordred  {siezes  her  wrist.)  I'll  bind  thee  on  the  rack  as 

[thou  hast  me, 
Or  rather  finding  me  there,  stretched  my  sorrows. 
And  show  thee  all  the  devil  thou  hast  roused.       ;    .    .  . 
Then  hear  me,  I  do  scorn  that  love  of  thine  ;     ,;  ..  ,v!;.;rn -    ' 
Do  trample  on,  despise,  as  I  do  thee  I  ,.;:i,>  ^ if^J^f   u  ^* 

Vivien.  {^Falls  on  her  face.)  Nay  Mordred,  thou  breakest 
Nay,  curse  me  not.  [my  heart, 

Mordred.  Yea,  ask  the  rack  for  mercy  when  it  racks,       ^ 
Or  seek  for  honey  in  ttie  aspick's  sting  ! 
Yea,  more,  I  tell  thee  plainly  to  thy  face,  ;a  ;  ,;    , 

Guinevere  makes  hell  within  my  breast,  '  " 

And  thou,  my  slave,  wilt  help  me  to  her  arms. 

Vivien.  One  little  smile,  one  little  word  of  peace. 


72  ,     '  MOKDRM).  [act  III. 

Afofdted.  Nay,  silence,  or  a  curse  !     Wilt  thou   do  this? 

Vivien.  'I'hou  knowest  I  will,  let  me  but  touch  thy  hand! 
Trampled  on,  despised,  I  love  thee  still. 

Mordred.  Now  to  the  point,  Launcelot  goes  this  night 
To  secret  assignation  with  the  Queen,  • 

'I'his  saving  of  her  life  hath  patched  their  quarrel, 
And  thou  must  find  for  me  the  hour  of  meeting, 
Must  intercept  the  trusted  messenger, 
And  bring  me  secret  knowledge  of  the  time.  '  •'' 

I  go  now  with  some  knights  unto  the  King, 
To  force  his  leave  for  this  our  undertaking, 
And  put  their  secret  love  to  open  shame. 
I'hou  must  watch  near  the  apartments  of  the  Queen, 
And  take  by  fraud  or  force  knowledge  of  the  hour, 
And  bring  it  to  my  ears  with  thy  best  speed. 

Vivien,     Yea,  I  will.  -    .  ;  \Exit  Mordred. 

He  hath  read  true,  I  am  his  slave  at  last,  > 

Aye,  what  a  splendid  devil  he  doth  make. 
There  is  no  man  like  him  in  all  this  world. 
I'll  see  him  crowned,  climb  he  there  o'er  my  body. 

\Cuttain 


SCENE  VI. — An   mtdience   room   in   the    CastU.      Enter 
;'    '     Mordred,  Sir  Agravaine  atid  other  Knights.   .        . 

Mordred.  'Tis  a  delicate  business  we  be  come  upoti,        ' 
Though  one  of  grave  importance,  therefore  I  A' 

Will  stand  i'  the  background,  thou  Sir  Agravaine,     '  !  <  '  i^  • 
Being  a  kinsman  not  o'  the  sinister  side,  .        ; 

May  speak  the  plainer.     Let  it  fall  on  me.  ,>/  ,„     ^  m^    i»i^^ 
Yea,  I  will  answer  with  my  body  here.  -' 

Sir  An;.  Yea,  I  will  put  it  plainly  to  the  King, 
And  show  the  evil  placed  upon  our  house, 
And  that  foul  insult  tendered  King  and  kingdom, 
By  overbearing  Launcelot  and  the  Queen. 

Other  Knights.  Yea,  we  are  with  you. 


SC.  VI.]  MORDRLD.  73 

Enter  a  Page. 

Sir  Ag.  We  would  see  the  King. 

.  .      Exit  Page,  enter  Arihur. 

Arthur.  What  means  this  sudden  assembling  of  knights 
At  this  strange  hour  ? 

Sir  Ag.  We  would  bring  a  matter  to  thy   hearing,  King, 
Of  grave  import  unto  thyself  and  us 
Of  thine  own  household,  who'd  uphold  thy  pride. 
Yea,  one  affecting  the  dignity  of  this  land. 

Arthur.  What  be  this  matter? 

Sir  Ag.  The  matter  is  one  which   toucheth   thine  own 
And  hath  to  do  with  Launcelot  and  the  Queen.         [honor, 

Arthur.  Dost  thou  insult  thy  King?  {driuvs) 

Sif^  Ag.  Nay,  thou  dost  insult  thyself  and  us, 
Doth  thou  not  listen  ! 

Other  Knights.  Yea,  King,  'tis  true. 

Arthur.  Tis  treason,  damnable  treason  'gainst  my  ()ueen, 
'Gainst  myself  and  'gainst  this  noble  kingdom. 

Sir  Ag.  Wilt  thou  hear  me.  King  ? 

Other  Knights.  Yea,  hear  him.  ' 

Arthur,  Then  I  will  hear  thee  further,  but  tis  plain, 
You  prove  this  on  your  bodies  to  the  death.        ,  ,.    , 
If  this  strange  lie  be  not  as  true  as  Heaven,  ■n.  >. 

Each  man  who  thinks  this  damned  treason  dies  1  t 

Knights.  Tis  just  King,  we  will  prove  it  on  our  bodies. 

Sir  Ag.  We  think,  T.ord  Arthur,  thou  art  over-blind 
To  certain  things  that  compromise  thine  honor. 
And  some  of  us  have  reason  to  suspect  ?  •    i: 

Sir  Launcelot  holdeth  commerce  with  the  Queen.  ,  ;  ' 

Arthur.  Stop!  Catiff!  ..         .  W^.. 

Sir  Ag.  Wilt  thou  not  hear  it  ?        Tr^':E^I  ^^^^  ^   -  -^ 

Arthur.  Have  ye  forgotten  that  my  name  is  Arthur  ? 
Or  is  this  nobleness  a  vanished  dream  ? 
'Tis  damnable  ! 


74  j    *    [  MORDRED.        '  [act  III. 

St'r  Ag.  We  would  prove  this  same  upon  our  bodies, 
By  taking  of  them  in  the  very  act.  . 

Arthur.  No  more  !  by  heaven,  no  more  !  I  say,  no  more  I 
Or  by  my  crown,  I'll  cleave  thy  catiff  tongue,  .    v 

And  spatter  thine  evil  brains  on  yonder  pavement, 
That  dared  impeach  my  royalty  of  such  dishonor. 

Sir  Ag.  Nay,  King,  we  will  die  for  the  truth  of  this  matter. 

Knights.  Yea,  Lord  Aithur,  we  are  so  prepared.     . 

Arthur.  Nay,  ye  are  mad,  blind,  besotted  mad. 

Sir  Ag.  Nay,  King,  here  is   Sir  Mordred  who  will  show 
The  truth  whereof  we  speak.      [Mordred  comes  forivard. 

Arthur.  Ha  I  And  it  is  thou  that  art  at  the  bottom  o'  this 
matter  ! 

Mordred.  Sire,  I  would  but  do  my  duty  to  this  kingdom, 
And  to  the  honor  of  your  kingly  place. 
Sir  Agravaine  is  over-blunt  in  speech. 
And  speaketh  sudden  on  a  cruel  matter  ; 
Yet  he  hath  but  the  right  in  this  grave  question, 
Nor  doth  dishonor  thee  in  this  respect 
More  than  do  any  of  these  royal  knights. 
But  rather  would  show  wherein  thine  honor  lieth. 
If  dishonor  lies  therein,  it  doth  not  lie    :       "    / 
On  them  who'd  prove  the  evilment  suspected,  •      ; 

But  rather  on  those  who  by  their  treasonable  act      '•         "  ;  ■ 
Hath  brought  this  shame  upon  us.     It  would  seem 
That  thou  dost  love  Sir  Launcelot  even  more  ■ 

Than  the  unsullied  honor  of  thy  Queen. 

Arthur.    Nay !     Speak    no  more !     Thou   hast  insulted 
If  but  one  thousandth  part  of  this  be  true,  [Arthur. 

Then  is  great  Arthur's  glory  brought  to  ground. 

Mordred.  Sire!  ^ 

Arthur.  No  more  of  words  !  What  wouldst  thou  have  me 

[do? 

Mordred.  Sire,  we  would  that  thou  give  the  opportunity 
To  prove  the  cruel  substance  of  our  coming 


SC.  VII.]  MORDREU.  75 


By  taking  the  doers  iti  the  very  act, 
>  And  trapping  Launcelot  in  the  Queen's  ajiartment. 

Arthur.  Go  on  !  Death  !  Speak  on!    Accursed  me  I 

Mordred.  It  thou  wilt  go  abroad  this  coming  night, 
And  advertise  thy  going,  and  grant  to  us 
Sufficient  knights  to  make  the  matter  proof, 
We  will  fulfil  this  matter  with  our  lives.    ^ 


Knights.  We  will. 

Arthur.  And  it  hath  come  to  this  1  " 

Mordred.  Sire,  wilt  thou  grant  this  ? 

Arthur.  Yen,  I  will  grant  it,  but  by  Arthur's  honor, 
The  knight  returning  from  such  vile  ambushment 
Without  full  proof  unto  the  open  world 
Of  that  which  spills  the  sea  of  Arthur's  glory, 
Shall  die  the  foulest  death  this  kingdom  lends  ! 
„   On  this  condition  only  do  you  go. 

Mordred.  Yea,  we  accept  the  condiiions. 

.■  ■  1', 

Kfiights.  Yea,  we  do.        ,    '  \Curtain. 


SCENE  VII. — A  passage  near  the  Queeri's  apartments. 

,;,\..v---/     '■  ,  <■■-        En/er  ViviKN.    ■.-    '■'   :' 

Vivien.  Now  slave  but  do  the  bidding  of  thy  master. 
And  soon  the  boding  hour  will  draw  anigh 
When  Guinevere  will  queen  a  royal  hunch-back. 
Now  serve  me  well  my  wits  until  I  play 
The  issue  of  this  matter  to  my  mind.  .. : 

[^Retires  into  an  a /core. 

Enter  Unid  t/ie  Quekn's  Maid,  7vith  a  ting. 

Now  drat  that  page  !  What  can  the  matter  be  ?         ^      ," 
This  ring  must  go  but  who  will  be  the  bearer, 
It  bothereth  me  to  discover? 

\^Passes  out  on- left. 


/  ■ '  vj",  ! 


MORDRKI).  [act.  III. 

Ddfjonet.  O  mc  !  inc  !  me  !  that  ever   I  did  that  deed. 
{To  Spirit)  Nay  !  nay  !  Spirit,  come  not  here  ! 
Hide,  hide  that  woeful  face.     Sleep,  sleep 
Quiet  'i  the  f^rave  !    Dagonct  tneant  it  not. 
Ha  !  ha  !  I'll  laugh  and  be  merry.     "Tis  but  my  wits. 
I'll  think  on  Vivien.      Nay,  nay,  not  that  face  I 
1  slew  thee  not,  .\way  !  away  ! 
'Tis  but  a  fancy    but  it  lifts  the  hair 
In  frosty'bristlcs,  makes  the  eyeballs  stare, 
And  turns  me  to  a  horror.     .Away  !     Away  ! 

Re-enter  Maid. 
What  play  is  now.  Sir  Fool,  that  thy  wit  playeth  ? 

Da\io7iet.  Oh  !  tis  thou  !  ^     . 

Unid.  'Tis  said  that  thou  art  looking  at  the  Queen, 
And  wouldst  oust  Sir  Launcelot.     Thou  art  a  bold  fool. 

'^'iqonet.  Nay,  nay;  tis  thou  sweet  Unid  rendeth  my  heart. 

Unid.  Now  art  thou  a  kind  fool. 

Da^onet.  Is  the  Queen  within  ? 

h  Unid.  She  sleepeth. 

:     Diii^onet.   I  will  sing  thee  a  song.     {Sinys.) 

*  "  It  rose  upon  the  month  o'  May, 

v^;/  V  V  When  woods  were  filled  with  laughter, 

■jy''%  Came  Margery  trii)ping  up  the  way,    ^^^      'J 

v'.    •  And  Jock  a  stealing  after.  /•//'< 

y-¥--  (To  spirit.)     Away!  away!    '       ,    V  > 


It  rose  in  Autumn's  afternoon 
When  love  was  dead  and  laughter. 
That  Jock  went  striding  'r^eath  the  moon, 
And  Margery  pining  after. 

{To  spirit.)     Away  !  I  say,  away  ! 

Unid.  Well  acted.  Fool,  and  well  sung. 

Dagonet.  Yea,  it  is  a  part  of  me. 


SC.  VII.]  MOKDUED.  ff 

Unid.  {Aside)  He  will  do.  {To  Dagonet)  Fool,  wilt 
thou  deliver  a  message  for  me  ? 

Dagonet.   Yea,  by  my  love. 

Untd,  It  be  a  i)ressing  business,  and  a  private  one. 

\Speaks  in  a  lo7v  voiie. 
Thou  seest  this  ring.  It  is  the  Queen'.«?.  Thou  needs 
must  fmd  Sir  Launcelot,  and  deliver  it  to  him  privately 
and  say  !  "This  night  afore  midnight." 

Dagonet.  What  doth  it  mean  ? 

Unid.  It  meaneth,  do  thy  part,  and  shut  thy  ears  and 
mouth,  and  put  a  padlock  on  thine  inward  thoughts. 
Wilt  thou  do  it  ? 

Dagonet.  Yea  that  I  will,  'tis  for  the  Queen,  {to  spirit) 
Away  1  away  !   Haunt  me  not  ! 

Unid.  What  aileth  thee  ? 

Daqonet,  Did  I  speak? 

Unid.  Thou  spokest  as  to  someone.  . 

Daijonet.  '1  is  but  an  infirmity. 

Unid.  '  Tis  a  queer  one.  Thou  wilt  be  speedy  and  private  ? 

Dagonet.  'I'hat  I  will.     Not  one  kiss  ? 

Unid.  Away  !  away  !  Haunt  me  not. 

■  ■    ■'-'■    ;■■'-■.--■■    '     '   ■  -         •  •  '       ■  ■  ^   .      ■    ■  {Exit. 

[Vivien  comes  from  the  alcove, 

Vivien.  Ha!  thou  false  lover ! 

[Dagonet  drops  the  ring. 

Dasonet.  'Tis  thou  I  , 

Vivien.  Caught  in  the  act,  sott  words  and  lovers  songs, 
And  rings  exchanged,  and  even  kisses  proffered. 
Thou  Double-Dealer  !  Thou  wouldst  seek  my  love  ?       * 

Dagonet.  I  tell  thee  thou  art  wrong.  'Tis  the  appearances 
are  at  fault.  ,>.» 

Vivien.  Thou  liest  I  Didst  thou  riot  offer  to  buss  her  ? 

Dagonet.  ' Twas  but  a  sally  to  cover  mine  inward  thoughts. 


78  MORDREIJ,  [act  III. 

m 

Viviev.  Thou  liest  again.  What  were  those  low  words  she 
-    spake,  when  she  took  thy  hand  ?  ; 

Dagonet.  'Twas  but  a  message  she  gave  me  on  a  private 
matter.  -^'  "■.  -  ^ 

Vivien.  Oh  !  oh  !  very  private  !    Dagonet,  very  private  ! 

Daifmet.  I  cannot  tell  thee  of  its  import. 

Vivien.  Nay,  thou  canst  not,  for  thou  liest. 

Dagonet.  I  tell  thee,  Vivien,  thou  wilt  madden  me. 
1  tell  thee,  1  love  thee  only,  and  thou  knowest  it. 

Vivien.  What  was  the  substance  of  that  message  ? 

Dagonet.   If  thou  must  have   it,  and  thou   draggest  my 
>  ■  '.    heart  out,  it  was  from  the  Queen.    The  words,  "  tonight 
afore  midnight." 

Vivien.  A  true  story  !     To  thee  ?  ^ 

Dagonet.  Nay,  to  Sir  1  .auncelot. 

Vivien.    Thou  liest  !   Canst  thou  explain  that    ring   she 
gave  thee  ?  {picks  it  up)     .  ., 

Dai^onet.  'Tis  the  Queen's. 

Vivien.  Ho!  ho  !  And  thou  the  trusted  messenger!    'Tis 
a  likely  story.     Wouldst  have  me  believe  it  ? 

Dagonet.  Vivien,  I  tell  thee  that  T  love  thee,  and   am  in 
Hell  for  thee,  aye,  in  Hell  ! 

Vivien.  Thou  forgettest  thine  important   message,    thou 
most  trusted  lover  and  messenger. 

Dagonet.  Vivien,  wilt  thou  not  believe  m.e  ? 

Vivien.  Go,  go,  I  tell  thee,  I  will  see  thee  again.     '*  '    ^ 

-,  ;  « >^-    [^Exit  Dagonet' 

Vivien.   Now    cometh  the  hour  when   my   revenge   ap- 
Now  winds  my  web  about  doomed  Camelot,       [proacheth, 
An  angered  fate  hangs  o'er  these  castle  walls. 
There  will  be  bloody  deeds  abroad  tonight. 
Rise  Spirits  of  old  vengence  and  affright  ! 
Vivien  conquereth.     Wait  !  wait  !  [Curtain. 


.*">«;  >'  ' 


SC.  I.]  MQRDRED.  -  79 

ACT  IV. 

SCENE    I. — (Ili'sc    outer    curtain.)        Passage    neat    the 
Queen's  apartments.     Enter  Dagonet. 

Daiionef.  'Tis  little  I  can  do,  but  I  will  mend 
The  devilment  that  I  have  helped  to  cause. 
Hark,  now  they  come  !    Here  will  I  take  my  stand. 
'Tis  over  my  dead  body  when  they  come, 
That  they'll  come  at  her.      Ho  I  stand  without  ! 

{Sounds  heard  without.  Efiter  Mordred,  Sir  Agravaini^: 
and  other  Knights  with  torches  a7id  naked  swords.  Dag- 
0NH,T  draws.) 

Where  go  you.  Masters? 

Mordred.  We  go  this  road,  'ware  how  you  stop  our  way. 

Dagonet,  The    man   who  goes   this   road  goes   o'er  my 
body. 

Sir  Ag.  Louse!  take  that !    {Stads  Dagonkt,  he /a//s.) 

Mordred.  'Tis  the  King's  jester. 

Dagonet.  You  have  leeched  my  folly.     Now   is   the  jest 
Vivien  !  {dies)  [ended. 

A  Knight.  He  was  a  man  after  all. 

Mordred.  Onward  Knights  to  better  game  than  this, 
Though  little  we  know  the  tragedy  that  ended 
When  yon  poor  light  went  out !    Come  this  way  ! 

\Exit  ali. 

{Rise  inner  curtain.)     The  Queen's  apartment,  Launcelot 

rt//// Guinevere.  ,    ;  ... 

^,    -  ■     .  ,,,.>.,.,.-.,      , , . 

Laun.  I  come  this  night  to  bid  you  a  long  farewell, 
Before  I  leave  this  kingdom's  shores  for  ever. 
This  love  doth  hold  me  in  a  demon's  grasp,   -.  ,     i 
And  my  heart  breaks  to  feel  great  Arthur's  love,  .  i 

And  all  the  time  we  twain  be  meeting  thus.  ^""-\  . 

Guin.  Nay,  nay  Launcelot,  leave  me  not  forlorn, 
I  cannot  live  without  thee.  Thy  strong  arms, 


8o  .  ,  Mor.DkKi).  [act  iv. 

And  thy  warm  kisses  are  to  me  the  one 

Fair  garden  springing  on  this  drearsome  earth. 

Laun.   Lady  1  must  go.     My  lands  in  France, 
Tribute  'o  my  sword,  I'll  make  a  kingdom. 
And  pass  my  days  in  memories  of  thee. 

Gum,  Nay,  nay  thou  wilt  not  go,  and  if  thou  must, 
My  heart  will  bleed  for  thee  until  my  death. 

Unid.  {hurry in^iT  i?i.)    Madam,  there  is   treason   without. 
Many  arm^d  knights  do  come  this  way. 

Laun.  Now  is  the  end  come  I  have  long  expected, 
The  grim  fatality  of  all  my  fears. 
The  nightmare  real  at  last.    Quick  I  my  Sweet ! 
Kiss  me  your  latest  now.    This  is  my  death  ! 

Guin.  Launcelot,  save,  save  thyself, 
I  will  bar  them  with  my  body  here. 
They  will  but  trample  a  dead,  dishonored  Queen, 
Whom  brute  fatality  made  its  passing  sport. 
Quick  !  that  way  ! 

Laun.  Nay,  nay,  sweet  Love,  but  I  will  die  with  thee. 
And  show  great  love  can  make  a  greater  death. 
{Draws)  Would  to(jod  I  had  mine  armour. 
{Loud  knocking  heard  at  the  door  and  the  voice  ^/"Mordred 
*'  \heard  without. 

Come  out  thou  traitor  Launcelot  and  show  the  world 
The  face  of  him  who  hath  dishonored  Arthur. 
Come  out  thou  Traitor. 

Guin.  Launcelot  save  thyself,  there  is  time  yet. 

Laun.  Nay,  Love,  Til  end  me  here,  if  be  my  fate. 
Ho  !  Cowards  without  I  I  am  a  single  man, 
Devoid  of  armour  having  but  my  sword,  -  vh^    ' 

Yet  will  I  open  and  give  you  Hell's  glad  welcome.  sii 

{Unbars  the  door^  Sir  Agravaine  rushes  in) 

Laun.  Die  Hound  !  {brains  him,)  Launcelot  drags  him 

-^■^-^  -^---^  [aside  and  bars  the  door. 

Quick  !  Help  me  to  this  armour  !  {takes  the  arms  from 

[Sir  Agravaine's  body,  and  arms  himself.) 


SC.   II. 1  MORDRKn.  8l 

Gttin.  (^Helpiiif^  liim)  Aye,  Love,  if  prayers  are  aught,  will 
mine  clothe  thee. 
(yviecs  outside^)  Open  up  !  Traitor  !  oj)en  up  ! 

Guin.  Great  Ood,  (ireat  (lod,  help  this  f)oor  (^ueen  who 
prays  !  (Launcklot  buckles  his  armour.) 

Latin.  Now  am  I  ready,  fare  thee  well,  sweet  Love. 
Whatever  haps,  and  we  may  meet  no  more, 
This  side  of  darkness;  carry  to  thy  grave, 
That  Launcelot  loved  thee,  thee,  and  only  thee. 

Guin.  Oh,  Launcelot,  my  heart  breaks,  {ihey  embrace^  the 
i^XjV.VM  faints.)     (Launcklot  to  the  maids,)  Take  her 
back  frotn  this,  protect  her,  keep  her  safe. 
This  work  is  not  tor  her  sweet  presence.     Now  heaven  help 
The  man  that  meeteth  Launcelot's  blade  this  night ! 
{^Voices  without,)  Coward  !  Traitor  !  wilt  thou  open  up  ? 

Laun.  Yea,  Traitors  who  foreswore  the  name  of  knight, 
When  like  some  drunken  rabble  ye  poluted 
The  gentle  sacredness  of  these  apartments. 
And  every  man  who  shamed  her  ears  tonight 
{Throws  open  the  doors)    shall  die  !  die  !    die  !   Come  on 
Devils  !     ( They  rush  in  and  then  /all  back  in  surprise.) 

Laun.  Ha  !  ha !  here's  wine  that  Launcelot's  blade 
would  drink.  Die,  Devils  !  {rushes  fortvard  hacking 
fiercely  with  his  sword,  twelve  knights  fall  one  after  the 
other. ) 

Alordred.  Cod  of  Heaven,  let  us  back !  This  man  be  mad  ! 
(Retreats  with  four  knights,    Launcelot  slays  the  rest.) 

Laun.  Come  on,  ye  Fiends  of  Hell  !   I'll  back  me  here, 
■  ;;.    Launcelot  is  a  man  of  honour  I 


SCENE  li. — Sir  J  j\u:^celot's  apartment,  midnight.  Enter 

several  Yj[\\^\.%  with  torches  and  swords. 

Sir  Ban.  Hello  there  !  wake  up  !  '  .«   = 

Knights.  Hello!  Within!  Within  1  {L.oud  knocking  heard 
at  the  doo.-'s  Enter  several  other  knights.  Enter  Sir 
Launcelot.) 


82  MoKDui;!).  [act  IV. 

Laun.  What  means  this  that  ye  be  armed  ? 

Sir,  Han.  Strange  horrors  woke  us  fr^jzen  from  onr  beds. 
Hideous  nightmares  beset  us.  Souie  heard  moanings, 
some  that  grave-bells  rang,  and  others  saw  strange 
s[)ectres,  and  I  myself  heard  clash  of  mighty  arms,  and 
quick  each  man  found  himself  leaped  from  his  bed, 
naked  l)lade  in  hand.  What  may  it  portend  ?  we  be 
much  affrighted  1 

Laun.  "lis  a  true  portent.     Now  the  end  hath  come 
Of  peace  and  hapj^iness  for  this  doomed  kingdom. 
To-night  on  private  meeting  with  the  (^)ueen. 
In  her  a]>artinents,  there  was  I  surrounded, 
And  hounded  traitor,  slew  so  many  knights, 
'I'here's  scarce  one  left  to  tell  the  King  the  story. 

Kni(/hts,  A  most  foul  and  dastard  attack  !  The  kingdom 
is  doomed.  - 

Entf'v  (I,  Messenger. 

Laun.  The  (^ueen  !  quick  !  the  Queen  !  what  of  her  ? 

Mesa.   An  order  hath  come  in  the  King's  name  ; 
She  is  to  be  burnt  tomorrow  noon. 

Laun.  Never  !  by  my  blade,  she  shall   not  die  1 

Kniijhts.  She  shall  not  !  she  shall  not!  on  our  lives  ! 


SCENI'^  \\\.--The    KiNd's    hdi^c   in   tlic  forest.     Arthur 

,    .J, :  .;  I  M       wai/dn^  back  and  forth.    .  ^..  ,.  _      .^.-^  v> 

.     Arthur.  Would  I  had  not  done  this  !     Heaven  this  hour 
Be  kind  to  this  poor  king,  susi)end  thy  wrath. 
For  my  past  frailties  judge  me  not  too  heavy.       ,^    .      2  \J. 
Oh,  were  it  dawning  !     Nay  if  it  be  shame, 
Night  roll  for  ever  round  your  shrouding  glooms.'  ' 
Hide  Arthur's  woe  in  your  convenient  black.  .?    .  s^   *'^ 

Rise  not,  O,  pitiless  Day  with  searching  white, 
Showing  abroad  catastrophe  and  doom. 
Hark  'tis  the  messenger.     Now  my  royal  soul, 


SC.   Ill,]  .  MOKDUI'.I).  Hj 

Is  it  black  or  white,  is  it  death  or  hfc  tf)  thcc  ? 

{Entt't  MessiJKjer)  Sire  !    ,  ,    , 

Arthur.  Speak  !  Is  it  calamity? 

Mess.   Yea,  Sire,  it  is  calaiiiity,  Sir  [/.luiicelot  ta'en, — 

Arthur.   In  the  (^)uten's  (luiiuber  ? 

Mess.  Yea,  Sire.  . 

Arthur.  'I'iieii  sai)le  Ni^ht  shut  out  the  morning  now. 
C),  !5j,'irkuess,  bury  Arthur  in  thy  shroud  ! 
O,  ('alauiities  |,ell,  pelt  your  fire  ! 
Sink  now,  proud  Arthur,  sink  to  rise  no  more. 

KnJi'.r  MoKDKED  and  two  KNKiHis. 

Monlnd.   We  b»*ing  you  evil  news  in  sorry  haste. 
I.auneelot  ta'en  by  us  in  the  (,)ueen's  apartments, 
When  we,  liailinj^  him  traitor,  would  bring  him  out, 
Then  he  mad  with  a  devil  did  issue  forth. 
And  slay  the  most  of  us,  so  that  we  are  scarce  fled  with  our 
As  th(.'se  two  knights  do  witness.  [lives, 

Kit'ujitfs  'I'is  true,  King.  ... 

Arthur.    Murder  and   'I'reason    walk    abroad  this  night. 
Adultery    and    Incest    leave  their  graves. 
Arthur,  Arthur  thou  art  a  king  no  more  ! 

Mordred,  We  would  arrest  the  Queen,  did  we  know  thy 

will.        ■:--■'-■-'■'■    ■.,-.'  '■      ■.',.'--■,     .    ;..,-Y<'      ',;-      "v         .^  ■  .     ^         '    .• 

Arthur.  O,  Night  !  Night!  Night!     "  '     '' 

Mordrcd.  'Tis  not  an  hotir  for  grief  and  memories,  Sire, 
Hut  action,  instant  action,  is  the  word. 

If  thou  wouldst  keej)  thy  kingdom.  Sir  Launcelot  knowelh 
'I'hat  thou  wert  ])rivy  to  this  lieavy  matter,  ■■_  .j'-'^^-y  ■*"'.■> ^, 
And  swearing  direst  vengeance  on  us  all,  :1     'v',v  ^^ 

Huildeth  a  parly  ior  to  help  the  Queen,  ;>jiv'  ii  il  '/;;.;;# 
And  oust  thee  from  thy  royalty.  ,  ■  -     vv     '  >  I'jjljV  _vr' 

Arthur.   Dost  thou  not  know  I  loved  this  Launcelot.    -.a^ 
And  had  I  chosen  a  brother  or  a  son 
It  had  been  I.auncelotl     C)h  thou  cruel  World  ! 
Thou  hast  no  cloud  of  evils  br(K;ding  dire, 


»'i'; 


84  MOnORKT).  I  ACT  IV. 

S()  niiirh  liiith  raineJ.      Mordnjd  take  my  crown, 
To  illegitimacy  jjass  my  glory  now. 

Mordrcd.   Nay  Sire  !    but  be  a  king  until  thou  tnkest 
A  King's  dread  vengeance  on  thine  enemies. 

Arthur.   iMiemies  thou  sayest.     Who  so  low, 
T.)  stoop  to  hate  this  cuckold,  shamed  king. 
I  am  a  king  no  more,  my  'I'able   Round 
Is  but  a  stall-yard  where  the  swine  of  men 
Will  rend  and  snarl  and  tear  my  glory  down. 

Enter    (JWAINK. 

Gwaifie.  This  is  a  bad  and  foolish  matter,  King, 
And  th  )U  wert  fool  to  fetch  it  to  an  issue. 
liut  now  thou  makest  bad  worse.    Didst  thou  send  out 
Vox  I^auncelot's  arrest  and  the  (Queen's  murder? 

Mordred.    'I'he  order  hath   gone  out  in  the   King's  name. 
I'is  gone  too  far  for  compromises  now. 

Gnmi'iw.  Tis  thou  hast  done  all  this,  thou  Plotter ! 

Mordrcd.  Thou  liest  !  Tis  but  the  natural  end  of  circum- 
stance that  worked  its  issue.  I  tell  thee,  the  King 
ordered  this. 

Gwaim.     King,  didst  thou  give  these  orders  ? 

Arthur,  (iwaine  thy  words  were  ever  over-blunt, 
liut  now  they're  fitting.     None  need  show  me  reverence. 

Gwaine.  Know  I  not  reverence,  but  I  would  of  facts. 
Didst  thou  proclaim  that  (iuinevere  should  die 
Jieing  found  of  treason  foul  against  thy  person, 
And  doom  her  to  the  stake  tomorrow  noon  ? 

Arthur.  'I'lie  Queen  !  the  (pieen  !  tliou  sayest,  I'll  have 
If  there  be  a  Queen  tomorrow  in  this  land,  [no  queens  ! 
She  shall  die  the  death  !  'tis  the  King's  word  !  ' 

Mordred.  Now  thou  hast  thine  answer. 

Gwaine.  Then  fear  Sir  Launcelot's  hate  and  split  this 
Topple  yonder  King  and  bring  h'm  down,  [kingdom, 

As  thou  wouldst  love  to.     Gwaine  will  none  o'  this. 


■■  ;-4'.,-  ■', 


SC,   III.  I  MORDKF.I).  85 

'I'hc  Pope  shall  hear  il  !     What's  a  woman  worth  ! 
That  truth,  or  untruth,  she  should  wreck  .1  kingdom  ? 

KiUc/r  a  Messenger  in  haute. 

Mordred.  Speak  ! 

Mess.  Sir  Launrelot  and  many  Knights  have  rescued  the 
(^)ueen  and  have  taken  her  to  Joyeous  Ouarde,  and   in 
the  <|iiick  struggle  Sir  (iareth,  and   Sir    Lynnette   were 
,  slain. 

Arthur.   More  woes  !   More  woes  !   Where  will  this  end  ? 

Mortinul.  {To  Sir  (iwAiNK)   Now  art  thou  satisfied? 

Gwaine.  (7V>  Mkss.)  What!  'I'hou  liesl !  tell  me  my 
brothers  be  slain  ? 

Mess.  'Tis  true,  Master,  mine  own  eyes  saw  them  dead. 

(Iwaifie.   Hell  !  wlio  did  the  deed  ? 

Mess.  Sir  Launcelot  himself.  He  rode  (juick  i'  the  Court 
And  lighted  and  hacked  without  looking  at  whom  he 
met,  to  reach  the  (^)ueen,  whom  bearmg  to  horse,  he 
stayed  not  to  see  who  were  dead  or  wounded  but 
straight  rode  away. 

(Jwatne.    I'his  world  or  the  next,  he  will  answer  me  ! 
Hell  !  mine  own  two  l)rothers,  and  all  for  a  damned  wench  I 
Queen  or  no,  King,  thou  shall  answer  here. 
Yea,  all  shall  answer  for  this  damned  business. 

Mordred.  Yea,  I  will  help  thee.  ''J' was  most  unnatural. 
Who  never  harmed  him,  he  should  serve  them  so. 

(jlwaine.  Launcelot,  Launcelot,  now  I  cast  thee  out,  i^ 
One  world  won't  hold  us  ! 

Mordred.  This  works  my  way.  O  World,  thou  art  mould- 
To  my  poor  vengeance  !  [ing  swift 
{To  ArtJmr.)  Sire   what  wilt  thou  do?          ■•    *^ 

Arthur.  '1  o  arms,  to  arms,  we'll  siege  him  in  his  hold. 
'Tis  death  that^cures  dishonor.     He  will  reap 
The  swift  dread  harvest  of  Heaven's  retribution. 


86  .  MORDRED.        /  [act  IV.;  . 

Gwaine.  Would  Launcelot  were   but  two  men,   I'd  slay  ~ 
'Twould  suit  my  feelings.  [.lim  twice. 


SCENE    \W.—(Rise   outer   curtain.')      Court   at   Camelot. 

Enter  tivo  Gentlemen. 

1st  Gent.  Were  I  the  weaker  kind,  I'd  trickle  tears 
For  this  poor  kingdom.     Hast  thou  seen  the   Pope's   bull  ? 

2nd  Gent.  Yea,  forbidding  the  carrying  on  of  this  strange 
And  commanding  Arthur  to  take  back  his  Queen,         [war, 
And  give  Sir  Launcelot  passage  from  the  Kingdom. 
He  be  a  wondrous  Knight,  this  Launcelot. 
'Tis  pity  this  love  o'ercame  him. 


■  \  i 


Both  pass  out.     iE'///<?r  Vivien  7//^/ Mordred.    tstj^/JC 

livien.  My  heart  grows  hot  to  bring  things   to  an   issue. 

Mordred.  Patience  I  and  thou  wilt  see  the  issue  come. 
Launcelot  banished,  Arthur  follows  atter,  v.f^iAV 

With  blustering  Gwaine,  both  ravening  for  war.  ^V ou  j 

Arthur  will  leave  me  regent,  then's  mine  hour.  '■''■ 

{Both pass  on.)  {Rise  inner  curtain.)  {Enter  ArtlHUR,  takes 
his  state.  Knights  and  Ladies.  Ttumpets  bloiv  imth- 
out.  Enter  Launcelot  7vith  the  Queen  draped  in 
blacky  with  her  Ladies.  Launcelof  leads  the  Queen, 
'^oho  stands.  LauncI'-Lot  kneels.  Arthur  avetts  his 
face.     T^auncelot  speaks.) 

.    Laun.  Sire  !  by  order  of  the  Pope  of  Rome 
And  your  most  royal  promise,  here  I  bring 
Unto  your  keeping  Guinevere  the  Quei  i\. 
And  dares  one  knight  within  these  royal  precincts 
Impugn  her  chastity  or  queenliness, 
I  meet  him  with  my  body. 

Arthur.  Madam,  I  acknowledge  you  as  Queen. 
It  is  the  will  of  Heaven.    I  submit. 
But  loving  wife  thou  art  no  more  to  me. 


SC.   IV...,.-        ^,:-.'  ...-'\../:%    MORDRED.  .-.:.-•. ^/.V./'  '  "'      S7 

Not  Pope  nor  Prince  can  white  thy  black  in  this.      ;  ^^^    : 

(Gvii^EYERE  fakes  her  s/a/e.      v    <  v     1 3.  ;F  fi; 

Gum.  Arthur  of  Britain,  I  answer  thee,  the  King,  r  ?  '^ 
I  am  no  more  thy  wife  nor  ever  was,  '■^•^'-^■'''■'-^'^'■■.:^:-\,cr.,:/'^-' ' 
Nor  am  I  shamed  as  Queen  to  own  the  love       •  < 

I've  borne  for  Launcelot.     In  the  coming  world     ,  pr 

He  will  be  mine,  as  I  am  truly  hi?.  .   ' 

I  wronged  thee  not  great  Arthur,  but  'twas  thou     ^".y"'-,.^':^j 
And  hellish  circumstance  have  wrecked  my  days,    'r'''":!'^-'^^?'',' 
JTis  the  Queen's  answer,  she  will  speak  no  more. 

Arthur.  Sir  Launcelot  Du  Lake,  arrse  !  (Launcelot 
Launcelot  Du  Lake,  thou  traitor  knight,  [stands. 

Sinner  against  the  honor  of  this  realm,        ^^V 
I  banish  thee  for  ever  from  this  kingdom,       V  ' 

On  pain  of  foulest  death,  dost  thou  return.       '     \  ' 

Laun.  Sire,  I  accept  the  issue.  '  \ 

Mordred.  'Tis  but  a  gentle  majesty  that  leans  ';i: ,.  •* 

To  mercy  such  as  this,  were  I  thy  king  — 

Gwaitie,  Yea,  get  thee  quick.    Fast  as  thou  nearest  France 
We  Fail  the  faster.     Thou  shalt  meet  with  Gwaine, 
And  pay  his  brother's  spirits  thou  hast  slain, 
Thou  foul  lewd  traitor ! 

Laun.  Lord  Arthur,  thou  hast  reason  to  scorn   me   now, 
And  all  thine  anger  stabs  mine  inward  soul;       - 
But  now  tis  open  I  must  tell  thee  true,  *. 

I  love  Queen  Guinevere  as  mine  own  body,  , 

And  her  alone  will  love  unto  my  death, 
As  to  none  other.     For  this  woeful  love, 
I'll  answer  to  my  God  who  put  it  there,  '* 

And  not  to  man,  nor  even  to  thee,  proud  King.         ^      ^,  ^ 
And  yet  I  say  it,  yea  with  breaking  heart,  'i--  .?>..■ 

I  love  thee,  King,  as  doth  no  other  man,  ' 
And  did  no  hideous  fate  come  in  between         ^  ^^ff'^^^r  .7 
I  had  been  thy  Launcelot  still.  ^"  i^    -■■ 

Arthur.  (Aside)  Great  God  !  Now  my  heart  breaketh. 
(To  Launcelot)  Begone,  false  Knight.     'Tis  enough. 


88  ..    -    „  MORDRED.  ■;  ACT  IV. 


i.* 


Latin.  Yea  yet  a  little,  Sire,  it  is  the  end. 
If  Gwaine  would  hearken  I  would  answer  him     -  % 
For  his  two  brothers.  v-  :-     ^' 

Gwaine.  Nay,  nay  I'll  not  hearken.        v^'    ivr  .';r   ?  ;, 

Latin.  Tis  ended  then,  but  I  would  say  to  thee,     /']' 
That  nothing  next  to  this  most  heavy  matter. 
The  most  dread,  sorrowful  matter  in' this  poor  world, 
Hath  grieved  me  so  as  that  I  did  that  deed.       ' -S'-Z ''''■':  .Z 
All  blinded  with  my  sorrow  for  the  Queen,  ]  ,    .Vr^ 

I  knew  not  'twas  your  brothers  that  I  slew. 

Gwaine.  Nay,  nay,  blood,  blood  alone  will  answer.         ,  , 

Laun.  (To  t/ie  Qveen)      ^  -'      ,. 

And  thou  sad  Guinevere,  thou  Queen  of  women,        .       .^  ; 
Sweetest  of  soul  and  form  upon  this  earth,     i       .^ 
I'll  look  upon  thy  beauteous  face  no  more. 
Let  womanhood  blossom  the  days  to  come, 
There  never-more  will  be  one  like  to  thee. 
(Bends  and  kisses  her  hand)  (Guinevere  goes  toward  him) 

Guin.  Launcelot,  take  me  with  thee,  I  am  thine. 
Arthur.  And  thou    the  Queen  ? 

Guin.  I  am  no  Queen  of  realm  save  this  man's  heart. 
And  where  he  treads,  that  land  to  me  alone 
Beloved  of  the  kingdoms  of  this  earth.  ,  v 

Oh  !  take  me  Launcelot,  my  Lord!  my  King  I  .' 

Arthur.  Ladies,  the  Queen  to  her  apartments!         '    \   ; 

Laun.  I  would  not  shame  thy  kindness,  Guinevere. 
We  were  each  others  ere  this  world  began,     .. 
And  we  together,  unshatned  yet  will  go  .  .,    , 

To  meet  our  God,  sweet  Love  farewell,  farewell. 
(Hurries  out.     The  Quekn  Iwnie  slowly  to  her  apartments 

[weeping,) 

Arthur.  Oh,  black  brute  Evil,  why  was  Arthur  born  ? 
Now  is  all  loveliness  gone  out  from  life. 
Yea,  I  will  sink.     Nay,  I  am  Arthur  still. 
The  Kingly  still,  defying  Hell  and  Fate. 
To  arms  1  to  arms  !  Red  battle  is  my  mood. 


SC.  V.  MORDRED.        ^^-:    v^^^^  89 

Mofdred.  Yea,  battle  !  '^■\iy^r':<^-'r-Mh)^H^'i'^>i 

Gwaine.  Yea,  blood,  for  blood  !  my  brother's  spirits  call. 

Arthur.  My  heart  awakens  !  Mordred,  as  my  regent, 
I  leave  thee  fillial  keeper  of  my  crown, 
My  queen  and  kingdom,  while  I  wed  with  war,     ,    ■. 
And  bring  as  issue,  yon  foul  Launcelot's  doom. 
Make  my  forces  ready.     France  !  is  the  word. 

All.  (draiv  swords  and  shout)  Yea,  battle  !     x':.^'^^^  [Curiam. 


-^,,Vt..  ;;\    -■• 


SCENE    v.— A     Corridor    in    the    Palace.       Enter    two 

Gentlemen.  -   •  • 

1st  Gent.  Hast  heard  the  news  ?  Mordred's  usurped  the 
kingdom,  hath  seized  the  Queen,  and  backed  by  half 
the  realm  doth  challenge  Arthur  to  a  warm  home- 
coming. Tis  said  he  hath  plotted  this  long  time  and 
now  hath  proved  his  chances.     How  stand  you  in  this 

.    most  bitter  struggle  ?  ^  -^V ^1    ''•-!!  l  ^c?  Tv'/v, 

2nd  Gent.  I'm  for  Arthur  and  now  for  Dover  and  France 
this  coming  night.  X«  '■'/'''    '"'-'/"'. 

1st  Gent.  Then  1  am  with  you.    May  we  bring  these  shores 
New  peace  from  this  usurper  when  we  come  [exit  doth. 

\Enter  YiviE'S  with  a  dagger. 

Vivien.  Nay  he  shall  never  make  her  Queen.  Nay  never  ! 
She  shall  die  first  !  No  Queen  but  Vivien 
Shall  royal  it  while  Mordred  lifts  the  crown. 
His  slave,  his  creature,  yea,  in  all  save  this. 
I'll  make  her  beauty  wan,  I'll  curtain  her  lights. 
Yea  she  shall  Queen  in  Tartarus  this  night. 
(sounds  heard  without^  Vivien  gets  behind  the  tapestry.) 

Enter  Mordred  as  King. 

Mordred.  Now  have  I  reached  the  pinnacle  of  my  revenge 
In  these  uncertain  heights  of  Arthur's  glory. 
And  even  now  I  sicken  of  the  struggle. 
Even  now  I  top  a  tower  of  fear. 


90  MORDRED.  i       v  ACT  IV. 

A  thousand  swords,  would  leap  at  my  command, 

And  swim  this  land  in  blood  at  my  one  word,   ■     ,?, 

Would  at  a  stronger  power  but  turn  and  rend  me. 

The  thousand  throats  that  this  morn  shouted,  '*  Mordred  !  " 

Tomorrow  morn  may  shout  as  loud  for  Arthur. 

'Tis  but  a  petty  thing  to  be  a  King, 

And  strut  an  hour  to  crown  a  people's  will 

And  make  them  think  they  wield  a  majesty, 

And  hold  a  phantom  rule ;  then  pass  and  be     '  > "  ' 

A  little  dust  in  a  forgotten  heap. 

Nay,  'tis  not  worth  the  blacking  of  a  soul,      .^     ;- 

The  letting  of  a  single  human  life,         :.    v;^:      -r     /  •  •  > 

The  fouling  o'er  of  youthful  memory.  ,-     ,.     .  :- 

And  1  am  now  this  self^contemn^d  thing,  '     1^4/?^   ' 

A  man  of  truest  sorrows  who  descended 

From  out  the  pedestal  of  nobler  dreams, 

And  used  the  subtle  intrigues  of  this  world 

To  climb  this  pyramid  of  human  weakr  js.  '  - 

And  now  I  hate  it  as  I  hate  myself 

Who  stooped  to  gain  it.     Yet  must  Mordred  king      i  xs    ; 

This  realm  with  a  tyranny  that  fear 

Wields  o'er  a  monarchy  that  knows  not  love.      >,  ,    ; ,  ;1; 

And  burn  his  heart  out  for  a  woman's  scorn.  ■  :^ 

Yea  she  shall  be  my  Queen  if  love  can  win  her. 

Bn/er  Guinevere  as  a  State  Prisoner        ...>;, 

Marched.  Madam,  I  would  detain  you. 

Guin.  Usurper  King  !    what  means  this  bringing  of  me 
I  deemed  the  shelter  of  a  sisterhood  [here  ? 

Were  not  denied  me. 

Mordred.  Madam,  I  would  to  you  unfold  this  matter, 
I  am  not  all  you  think  me  in  your  scorn 
Though  I  be  born  mis-shapen,  yet  my  soul 
Hath  appetite  for  beauty  like  a  man's 
That  shows  the  inward  in  the  outward  meiii. 
Madam,  I  would  lay  the  matter  plainly, 
I  have  long  been  a  victim  to  thy  beauties, 
And  would  new-make  thee  Queen  of  this  old  Kingdorti. 


SC.  V.  MORDRED.         .  .  .^''^C^i^'t  ■' r'''","-'^ 

6^?^m.  Never !    Were  Laiincelot  or   Arthur  standing  by, 
Insulter  of  thy  Queen,    thou  wouldst  die.  .  . 

Make  way  !  Make  way  ! 

Mordrpd.  Madam,  have  compassion  on  my  weakness  1 
A  soul  is  lodged  within  this  crooked  body. 
No  man  hath  ever  loved  as  Mordred  loves. 

Guin.  Make  way  !  this  be  hideous. 

Mordred.  Lady,  let  your  own  sorrow  plead  for  Mordred's 
As  thou  hast  loved  Launcelot  unhappy,  .■^,   ,     [sorrow. 

So  he  loves  thee.  ;>■'-   '  •     ;  ^ 

Guin.  Show  thy  love  by  closing  this  audience  quickly. 
I  am  all  Launcelot's  in  this  world  and  the  next,  ,y        :   .   / 
As  Heaven  knoweth. 

Mordred.  Then  thou  wilt  not  have  compassion.     ■;    :      ;: 

Guin.  I  pity  thee,  but  this  may  never  be.  T  *    ^  : 

Mordred.  Never? 

Guin.  Al  I  am  a  Queen,  never ! 

Mordred.  Lady  thy  pity  doth  but  little  help  me. 
Yet  will  I  show  thee  Mordred  hath  a  heart. 
Know  then  thou  hast  killed  the  spark  of   Mordred's  hope. 
And  silenced  the  music  of  this  world  for  him, 
Yet  lady  as  rightful  kmg  of  this  great  land 
He  grants  thee  safest  passage  where  thou  wilt.      •  •  -      ^ 

Guin.  I  would  go  to  a  Nunnery. 

Mordred.  As  thou  wilt.    Not  one  word  ?  Not  one  token  ? 

Guin.  Prince,  thou  hast  my  respect  and  gratitude 
For  this  thine  act. 

[^Exit  Guinevere  and  her  train. 

Vivien  comes Jortvard. 

Vivien.  Ha  I  Ha  !  Ha  !  King  Mordred  ! 

Mordred.  (Springs  forward  and  draws.)  Fiend  !  thou 
diest !  {lie  clutches  her,  they  stand  confronting  each 
other.)  Nay,  nay  and  thou  didst  hear  all  ?  Nay,  I 
will  not  kill  thee.     Thy  punishment  hath   been  more 


92  MORDRED.  ACT   IV. 

than  I  could  mete  thee.     I  see  sharp  agony  in   thine 
evil  face.     Yea,  Woman  thou  hast  suffered. 

Vivien.    Oh  God  !    My   love  !     My   love !    {would  stab 

[lierself. 

Mordred.  Nay,  die  not  !  {tkroios  the  dagger  away)  Thou 
deservest  thy  reward.  Mordred  will  crown  this  farce 
and  make  thee  Queen. 

Vivien,  Me  !  thy  wife  ? 

Mordred,  Nay,  nay,  nor  mistress  even,  only  Queen. 

[Curtain. 


SCENE  VI. — France — A  Tent  on  the  Field  near  Launce- 
lot's  Castle.     Arthur  -paces  to  and  fro.  v 

Arthur.  I  would  I  were  on  British  soil  again 
This  leaguer  goes  but  feebly.     I  am  sick 
Of  losing  battles  to  this  Launcelot, 
Whose  strength  and  prowess  in  far  kinder  days, 
Was  my  heart's  pride.     Arthur  thy  star  grows  dark. 
Thou  canst  not  keep  the  love  of  woman.     Nay, 
Men's  friendships  turn  to  traitor  on  the  lips. 
Oh,  Merlin ;  couldst  thou  now  but  see  thine  Arthur. 

Enter  Messenger. 

Arthur.  Well  ! 

Mess.  Sir  Launcelot  met  Sir  Gwaine  beneath  the  wall. 
And  of  all  the  bloody  fights  betwixt  them  two, 
Which  have  enhorrored  this  ensanguined  war. 
This  was  the  bloodiest. 

Arthur.  Speak  on  ! 

Mess.  Sir  Gwaine  be  mortal  wounded,  so  it  seemeth. 

Arthur.  Nay  ! 

Mess.  He  even  fought  on  after  he  was  down, 
Till  his  blade  fell  from  out  his  palsied  hand. 


SC.  VI.]  MORDRED.  95 

Arthur.  This  time    maketh    thrice    that   he   hath    been 
And  surely  this  will  cool  his  fiery  blood.  [defeated, 

He  is  the  strongest  hater  I  have  known 
In  all  my  royalty.  He  would  as  lief  go 
To  Hell,  so  that  his  foe  might  forfeit  Heaven. 

Enter  Gwaine,  home  by  Squires  and  Attendants. 

Gwaine.  Let   me   forth — forth,  I  say  !     Hell  !    catiffs,  I 
I  would  at  him.     Oh  !  [be  better  now. 

Attendants.  Sire,  if  he  rest  not  he  will  die. 
The  blood  runneth  from  him  m  streams  s  ;!^  ir^n^ 

So  we  cannot  quench  it,  do  he  not  lie  still.      ^^     *    •       • 

Gwaine.  King,  I  be  a  shamed  man.      Damn  this  world  ! 
I  will  shut  it  out  o'  my  knowledge.     I  be  in  pieces. 

Arthur.  Thou  hast  had  enough,  temper  thy  hates. 
And  do  thy  brothers  more  they  lodge  in  Hell. 
I  am  for  England.  ;^/:r 

Gwaine.  Nay,  King,  let  me  but  once  more.       " 

Arthur.  Thou  canst  scarce  utter,  thou  wilt  die. 

Gwaine.  Nay,  I  will  stand  his  front  so  long  as'I  may  hold 
a  blade,  and  shake  it  at  him. ! 

Enter  a  Messenger  in  great  haste. 

Arthur.  Whence  come  you  ? 

Mess.  From  England.     Mordred  hath  made  him  King. 

Arthur.  Nay  !  nay  ! 

Mess.  Tis  true,  artd  seized  the  Queen. 

Arthur.  Great  Heaven  ! 

Mess.  Even  now  he  sitteth  robed  in  thy  late  state, 
And  wieldeth  puissance. 

Gwaine.  The  damned  hunchback  ! 

Arthur.  Oh  World, would  I  were  gone !  My  Queen  untrue, 
My  heart's  best  brother  traitor,  even  my  son, 
Mine  ill-got  son  doth  rend  me.     Who  would  now 
Hold  fate  with  sunken  Arthur  ? 


94  MORDRED.  ACT  IV. 

( To  the  Messenger.)     Be  there  more  ? 

Mess.  Nay,  Sire,  I  came  in  haste  at  the  first  news. 
Though  it  is  said  that  he  would  wed  the  Queen  ? 

Arthur.  A  thousand  devils  take  him  1  — Nay,  not  that 
Not  that  most  foul  completion  ! 
Ho  !  Sir  Hake,  Sir  Mark.     Ho  Knights  without ! 

Enter   Knights. 

Arthur.  Mordred's  usurped  the  kingdom.  We  must  haste 
to  England  now.  The  siege  is  raised.  Yea  I  will  blot 
him  out  or  make  an  end  righting   mine  old  glory. 

Gwaine.  {Borne  out.)  Now  are  my  chances  gone. 
Gwaine  is  disgraced.  This  is  a  world  of  woe.  I'll 
fight  no  more.  But  one  more  bout,  and  my  sword 
might  ha'  done  it. 

[Curtain. 


ACT  V. 

SCENE  I. — (J^ise  outer  Curtain.)     Enter  two  Soldiers- 

1st  Sol.  Ho,  without  there  !  --^^Ic 

2nd  Sol.  What  news  ? 

\st  Sol.  Arthur  is  back  for  England  with  all  his  forces, 
and  the  King  hath  sent  an  army  to  withstand  hfs  land- 
ing, and  himself  leaveth  to  night  to  follow  them. 

2nd  Sol.  He  be  a  rare  King  this  Hunchback.  He  hath 
a  marvellous  power.  His  Knights  be  feared  of  him, 
but  'tis  said  he's  just. 

1st  Sol.  He  be  not  lawful  got,  'tis  said,  but  none  can  say 
his  rule  be  foul. 

2nd  Sol.  'Tis  said  that  the  new  Queen  be  a  witch  an'  hath 
holpen  hirti  wi'  her  deviltries. 

jst  Sol.  God  save  us  if  it  be  true  I  Yet  it  is  safe  to  say  ; 
God  save  the  King  an'  Queen.  'Tis  better  to  cry  a 
witch  Queen  than  to  be  jjplit  'i  the  gullet. 


i^ii.l' 


SCI.]  MORDRED.  -  95 

2nd  Sol.  Yea  wi'  plenty  ale  'i  the  pewter  and  meat  'o  the 

;/     spit,  no  matter  who  queens  or  kings  it,  so  says  I.    I'm 

%     for  Mordred  an'  tlie  Witch.  ■  ^  <-  <        •->- 

1st  So/.  So  be  I  till  the  next  change  comes.     [Exit  both. 

(Rise  inner  Cut  tain.)     Enter  Vivien  as  Queen  ivith  many 
Ladies  and  Pages — takes  her  state. 

'        ■'        ''  Enter  a  YJi\\g\\\.^  7V  ho  kneels.       -^'^ 

Vivien.  What  news  from  France,  Sir  Bors  ?  : 

-J    V     J''> 

Knight.  Arthur  cometh  back,  my  Lady.  .  u    :'::>;;  I 

Vivien.  Nay!-  .'^''■•.  ,^^,=  '..^k-:/./.' :;^■.li•^  ^^s^^,". 

Knight.  Yea,  my  Lady,  the  army  be  embarked.       J 
Vivien.  Oh  short  and  bitter  !  .  n^-r     t%0t 

■-/:-..r-  .  r.      ,.>   ■       Enter  Mordred.      ■^'':^'::■'■■''•  *'^"'-l',''''V' 

Mordred.  Well,  Madam!  v=v^4   ;y  >h^^^^^^^^ 

"Rm^n.  {To  the  Ladies)  Begone  !        ^  '>'?'  i         [jEjic/V  rt//. 

(7^^  Mordred.)  Hast  thou  heard  the  news  ? 

Mordred.  'Tis  as  I  have  long  expected.    He  now  cometh 

[back. 

Vivien,  Art  thou  prepared? 

Mordred.  Yea,  if  'tis  death  thou  meanest. 
And  'twere  better  so.     Thou  art  a  Queen  already  I 
I  had  not  thought  thou  wouldst  so  look  the  Queen. 

Vivien,  Mordred,  would  that  thou  mightst  also  see 
I  wear  a  heart,  a  woman's  heart,  beneath 
This  queenly  mask. 

Mordred.  A  heart  ? 

Vivien.  I'hat  beats  and  breaks  for  thee. 

Mordred.  I'm  not  myself,  I  am  a  hunchback  king, 
Who  stole  his  father's  rule  by  subtlety. 
And  keepeth  it  by  power  of  being  a  devil. 
I  know  not  love.     Woman,  thou  art  mad  ! 
Art  thou  not  satisfied  with  what  thou  art  ? 


96  MORDRED.  ,  [act  V. 

•  '•''■•■■■-  '.' 

I  made  thee  all  that  woman's  heart  might  crave.    ,  x   ,  '. 

Revenge,  ambition,  these  all  can  I  grant,  .- 

But  love,  a  commodity  not  in  Mordred's  giving. 

Use  this  thy  power  to  surfeit  while  it  lasts, 

To  morrow  it  will  topple.    I'm  o'er-weary  .  '       '■ 

Of  all  this  sycophancy  of  creeping  men,  :   ;  .  v,;;r,} 

Who  fear  my  power  and  sneer  upon  my  back  ; 

A  pageantry  of  lies  where  human  worms,  ^ 

Who  crawl  to-day,  tomorrow  get  a  sting  4  / 

And^use  it  on  the  hand  that 'f- jnded  them. 

I  cannot  mould  the  face  to  popular  form. 

And  hide  the  thought  behind  the  outward  act. 

And  make  good  ill,  ill  good  by  royal  patent. 

Nay,  I  can  scorn,  and  I  can  hate, — yea  strike,    .   * 

When  rules  the  mood,  yea,  I'm  a  very  devil ;    ,.      '      *  < 

But  cheat  myself  and  others  to  what  I  am, 

And  be  a  popular  dream,  a  fancied  god, 

The  victim  of  a  world's  delusiveness,  "  *-- 

What  manner  I  am,  I  were  not  made  for  this. 

Yea  coming  struggle  I  meet  thee  with  a  joy 

'Twere  scarce  expected.     Madam,  I  bid  farewell.  \'    . 

We  worked  this  masque  together,  thou  and  I,  ' 

And  if  it  like  thee  little,  blame  not  Mordred. 

I  go  to-night  to  meet  my  Sire  in  battle. 

Such  fight  will  be  this  kingdom  hath  not  known 

In  all  its  sorrows.     Britain's  darkest  hours 

Are  blacking  on  her,  I  feel  I  go  to  death. 

I  leave  some  knights  to  guard  thee.     If  thou  desirest 

Thou  canst  withdraw  unto  some  convent  close, 

Till  this  blows  over.  . 

Vivien.  Nay,  Vivien  flees  not.  She  dies  first !   Woman  or 
She  will  be  found  where  dangers  threaten  thee         [Queen 
And  menace  thy  kingliness.  Oh  Mordred, 
Thou  knowest  not  the  woman  that  I  am. 
Take  me  with  thee  as  thy  heart's  true  slave, 
Where  thou  diest,  there  would  Vivien  die, 
Or  where  thou  goest,  there  would  she  wander  too. 

Mordred.  Nay,  nay,  'tis  vain,  I  am  a  man  apart. 


SC.   I.  MORDRED.  97 

/  . 

Thou  knowest  not  the  iron  I  am  become. 
Mordred needs  no  shield  of  kindly  help 
Other  than  what  unkind  nature  gave  him. 
Woman,  thou  dost  unqueen  thyself,  I  tell  thee. 
Thou  wastest  thy  words  on  Mordred. 

Vivien.  Oh  brute.  Oh  cruel  shape,  not  natural  man, 
Hast  thou  no  feeling  ? 

Mordred.  I  go  forth  to-night.  ^ 

To  wreck  my  father,  stem  his  tide  this  way  *    ^ 

Unto  his  rightful  kingdom.     Speak  me  love  ! 
Rather  tell  the  lamb  skipping  the  mead, 
Go  ask  the  wolf  for  suckle.  ,r  •    .^     :\    -v  >^^^^^^^^^^ 

Vivien.  Nay  Mordred,  slay  me  now  and  thou  wilt  know 
Vivien  had  blood  full  warm  to  flow  for  thee. 

Mordred.  Woman,  I'm  all  iron  and  adamant   ■  '  -  ;^'  ■  ■  ,  y 
And  yet  I  pity  thee  for  thou  hast  hell.  -^     ^  ^." V*^^ 

I  would  not  slay  thee — rather  fare  thee  well.  '^^  ^ 

{Exit  Mordred. 

Yivien.  Oh  God  !  Mordred  !  Mordred  I  Is  this  all  ? 
And  I  have  moulded  him  unto  this  iron    v  j  ;;/ 
I  beat  against.     It  is  my  punishment  ! 
Oh  God  !  Oh  God  !  Nay,  I  will  go  with  him,      Ia  iV; v  r^^ 
And  die  with  him  if  need  be.   Now  my  wits  1    ;    ;  ;/  V       ; 
But  how  ?  How  :*    How?  v  ^i  iM,j      ; 

Enter  a  Page.  •y,,,.>r:;vv^  ^■■•yc:;:,i;v-vs^i 

Page.  Madam,  the  King  ? 

Yivien.  He  hath  just  left— Stay,  dost  thou  go  with  him  ? 

Page,  Yea,  Madam. 

Vivien.  Doth  see  this  jewel  ? 

Page.  Yea  Madam,  it  be  wondrous  indeed. 

Vivien.  It  will  be  thine — wilt  thou  stay, 
.And  let  another  go  in  thy  stead.       lusvi      > 

Page.  The  King  trusteth  me.  c-j^ii^n  v 

Vivien.  'Tis  the  will  of  one  who  loveth  the  King  far 


"^  .      .  MORDRED,        ■^■^':ryr::'^:-:;^...::v:,     [act  V. 

more  ihan  ever  thoa  couldst.  'Tis  my  will.  Thou  must 
stay.     Quick,  this  way.  [Exit  both. 

Re-enter  Mordred  with  his  Knights. 

Trumpets  without. 

Mordred.  Make  haste  !  Make  haste  !  Where  tarrieth  this 
Squire  of  mine  ?  We  must  ride  to  Dover  ere  it  darkens. 

,  A  Knight.  He  cometh  now,  Sire. 

Enter  Vivien,  disguised  as  a  Squire. 

-  ;r.  Mordred.  Dost  thou  keep  thy  king  ?    thou  wert  long  in 
coming. 

Vivien.  I  came  with  all  speed,  Sire. 

Mordred.  Thou  seemest  over  pink  and  white  for  this  work 
Canst  thou  fight  ? 

Vivien.  Yea,  Sire,  I  can  use  a  dagger. 

Mordred.  Then   follow — Ho,    there  without  I     Now  for 
Mordred's  doom.  [Curtain 


rSCENE  n. — The  Kentish  Coast.  Landins:  of  Arthur's 
troops  opposed  by  Mordred.  Battle  going  on  in  the 
distance.  Enter  Gwaine  borne  ashore  on  a  litter. 
Battle  comes  tiear. 

A  Soldier.  They  come  this  way,  here  will  we  stand  and 
guard  thee.     {They  put  down  the  litter^ 

'  Givaine.  How  goes  the  fight  ? 

A  Squire.   Desperate  hard.     The  enemy  be  strong, 
As  if  half  England  would  shove  the  other  'i  the  sea. 

Gwaine.  Give  me  my  sword,  and  help  me  up,   I'll  fight. 

A  Leech.  Sir  Knight,  if  you  rise  up  it  is  your  death. 

Gwaine.  Damn  thee,  to  lie  here  helpless  is  to  die, 
With  those  fierce  sounds  of  battle  in  mine  ears. 
Quick  !  my  sword  !  mine  old  strength  cometh  back. 


sen.  ,f,,y,  ,...,.,/      MORDRED.        :r.  /-' ■■'^■.■'- -...^ ,.. .        99 

(A  Squire  /lands  him  his  sword^  he  leaps  to  his  feet.  The 
battle  comes  near  and  they  are  all  borne  out  flighting. 
Re  enter  Gwaine  bor?ie  by  Soldiers  and  the  Leech.) 

Leech    I  told  thee  thou  wouldst  die.  '■     ' 

Gwaine.  And  so  wilt  thou  some  day,  and  like  a  milksop, 

['i  thy  bed. 
'Twas  a  poor  prophesy  though  a  sure  one.     It  is  naught. 
Turn  me  over.     Yea,  I  wedged  some  skulls,  and  clipped 
Danmed  Mordred's  wings  o'  some  pen-feathers.       ^ 

Enter  Arthur. 

Arthur.  So  far  the  battle's  ours,  tnis  edge  at  least 
Of  Britain's  soil  doth  Arthur  own  to-night.  ;^    f. 

What  be  this  ? 

Gwaine.  'Tis  Gwaine,  King,  brought  to  bay  at  last. 
Arthur.  Thou  weit  mad  to  fight. 

« 

Gtvaine.  'Twas  madness  not  to  fight  with  all   that   battle 
Ringing  its  clarion  thunders  in  mine  ears. 
All  life  be  madness  and  death  but  the  healing  of  it. 
I  have  reft  some  brain-pans,  i'  my  time,  ha  !  ha  ! 
Tell  traitor  Launcelot. — Yea  turn  me  softly, 
'Twas  a  deft  hand  did  give  me  that  last  stroke. 

Leech.  AVhat  be  thy  message  knight,   thy  time  groweth 
short  ? 

Gwaine.  Yea,    take     away, — tell     Launcelot,     Gwaine's 
vengence  waits  him  'i  the  nether  black.     (Dies.) 

[Curtain. 


SCENE  in.— Night  on  the  battle  field.     The  royal  tent, 

Arthur's  Camp. 

Arthur.  Ho  !  there  without.     {Enter  a  Page.)     Send  me 
Sir  Bedivere.  \Exit  Page. 

Enter  Sir  Bedivere. 


J.-- 


#  ■      .„      l-'^       ...-.,..-.•,■.,:.       ....,.-,,,..     .^.     ,:-.    .^,.  _,..,.  .^^  ,;:..■...-.. ■ 

lOO  ^      :     :^       •  ou      MORDKED.  >  ACT  V. 

Arthur.  Is  all  safe  'i  the  camp?     ;,  v  ?  •   ^  ^  '  v>; 

5/V.  ^.  Yea,  Sire,  the  sentries  are  set  and  watch  fires 
ablaze.     And  all  ready  for  battle  i'  the  first  dawn. 

Arthur.  What  of  the  enemy?       ,  .  i  v     »     ' 

<Sir  ^.  They  be  the  same.  Sire,  all  seemeth  quiet  'i  the 

camp.  -;■'  '-^  '  "'  '■  <-:    "■  ^• 

Arthur.  Remember   all   watchfulness,    so    there    be    no 

surprise.     Thou  canst  go  Bedivere,  I  would  fain  sleep. 

Sir  B.  Yea,  I  go,  Sire,  and  God  keep  thee  this  night. 

Arthur.  Stay,  Knight,  Arthur  of  England  is  a  lonely  man, 
Betrayed  of  those  who  should  have  loved  him  best.  ^  .'  ■ 
To-night  perchance  he  fronts  the  brink  of  death,  ^  t  "  ;v| 
In  bloody  battle  for  his  rightful  kingdom.  ^  t^    ^  '  v;  k 

Take  this  ring.  Knight,  in  memory  of  thy  King, 
(Gives  him  a  ring.)     Survive  he  not  the  morrow. 

Sir  B,  God  keep  thee,  Sire  !  [Exit  Sir  Bedivere. 

Arthur.  Now  what  will  morrow's  dawn-rise  bring  to 
Will  it  bring  bloody  victory  or  defeat  ?  [Arthur  ? 

How  like  an  autumn  wood  is  stript  my  glory. 
Who  short  since  was  sole  monarch  of  this  realm. 
Oh  !  evil  Spite,  that  ruleth  this  sad  world  ! 
Come  joy,  come  hope,  there's  nothing  sure  but  death. 
Yea,  I  will  sleep  and  muffle  out  my  sorrows 
A  little  while.     (Goes  to  the  couch.) 
Nay,  Arthur  will  not  pillow  till  he  beds  with  death, 
Or  doth  regain  his  kingdom.     I  will  rest  here. 
(Seats  hiniseif  on  a  chair  and  wraps  his  cloak  about  him.) 

Now  for  Oblivion's  peace  ! 

O  stricken  King,  thou  art  the  loneliest  to-night. 

In  any  realm.  (Leans  forward  falls  asleep.  A  V^gQ  steals  in.) 

Page.  He  sLeps.  (Exit  Page.)  (Arthur  starts  and 
///«//tfrj  " Launcelot !  Launcelot !  My  friend!  My 
friend  !  Guinevere  I  Ah  !   Guinevere  ! 

Ghost  of  Merlin  rises. 
Ghost.  Arthur  of  England  ! 


SC,  III.]  MORDRED. 


101 


■^    Arthur.  {In  his  sleep.)     Merlin!  Ah  I  Merlin! 

Ghost.  I  come  to  tell   thy   doom.   To-morrow  !  Arthur, 
i       to-morrow  1  - 

Arthur.  Away  Spirit  !    A  fright  me  not.     Away  !    Away  ! 
(Ghost  vanishes,     Arthur  starts  up.)  .>^    ^ 

Ah,  Merlin  !    did  I  dream  of  Merlin  ?  'Twas  but  the  fancy. 
Oh,  great  Mage,  to-night  thy  portents  wander  back 
Unto  my  mind,  Oh  couldst  thou  see  thine  Arthur. 
To-morrow,  said  the  voice  within  my  dream. 
To-morrow!  Yea,  to-morrow  1 

{Sits  down  again   and  folds  his  cloak.     Sleeps.     Mutters 
"  Mordred  !  my  son  Mordred  ! 

Ghost  of  GvfMHY.  rises.        v  '    ■  v        :     • 
Ghost.  King  !  v    /..^iv  i, 

Arthur.  Ah  !  'Tis  thou  !     Away  1  away  ! 
Ghost.  King,  fight  not  tomorrow. 
Arthur.  (In  his  sleep.)     Nay,  I  will  ! 
Ghost.  King,  fight  not  to-morrow. 

Ghost  vanishes^  Arthur  wakes. 

Arthur.  Yea,  sleep  is  but  the  border  land  o'  death. 
'Tis  twice !  'Tis  twice  !    It  is  a  certain  portent. 
Yea,  Arthur  fights,  though  Arthur  dies,  to-morrow. 
Yea,  now  I'll  sleep,  for  I  am  over-weary. 
Weary  of  life,  yea  I  am  over-tired. 
I  would  fain  sleep  though  night  should  have  no  morning. 
This  night  is  sweet  and  restful.     To-morrow  comes  doom. 
This  hour  for  soft  oblivion.  [Curtain. 


SCENE  IV.— Near  the  battlefield.  Enter  two  Knighi^. 

1st  Knight.  This  day  is  Britain  doomed  and  Arthur's 
Rent  and  dismembered  b)  old  grisled  war.  [Court . 

2nd  Knight.  Meseems   the   kingdom's  severed  like  two 
That  meet  together  in  some  mountain  course  [tides 


•  V   , 


I02  ^  MORDRE/).  ACT  V. 

To  whelm  Other.     Arthur's  star  grows  dark,  ..^t.  . 

And  Mordred's  darker.     'Tis  the  Queen  they  say, 
Hath  cursed  the  realm  with  her  godless  loves.  /'V^ 

:  ,^,,  Enter  two  other  Knights,  fighti?tg  on  foot,   ^^a^^  x 

ist  Knight.  A  Mordred  !  Ho!  A  Mordred  !      ,/* 

i    2nd  Knight.  An  Arthur  !  An  Arthur  !  Have  at  you  !  {They 
dose  and  each  stabs  the  other.      Both  die.) 

1st  Knis^ht.  Thus  is  the  kingdom  rent  like  doomsday's 
Such  awful  portents  have  been  told  abroad,  [crack; 

Since  yesternight.     Some  say  the  world  hath  end.  ,, ,.   j^/  v 

2nd  Knight.  And  what  be  they  ?  »];;  U  '^  ^  ; 

1st  Knight.  The  crucifixes  on  the  churches'  walls 
Have  trickled  blood,  and  many  abbey  bells      v       •     ;  ■      .' 
Have  tolled  the  midnight,  rung  by  no  man's  hand. --^i^  #; 
Yea,  even  the  dead  have  risen  from  their  graves. 

2nd  Knight.  Ora  pro  nobis  ! 

1st  Knight.  Some  even  say  that  Merlin  hath  come  back 
And  prophesied  the  kine;dom  at  an  end, 
And  all  last  night  men  dreamed  such  fearsome  dreams 
Of  blight  and  pestilence  and  spectres  dire  ; 
I  fear  me  much  the  end  of  days  hath  come. 

2nd  Knight.  How  goes  the  fight  ? 

ist  Knight.  Yea  even  fiercer,  as  two  tircal  waves, 
That  roar  together  on  some  night  bore, 
And  meet  in  thunders.     Never  hath  such  war 
Been  known  in  Britain  since  the  ancient  days. 
The  bowman's  arrows  darken  all  the  sun. 
The  battle-axes  clamor  on  the  shields. 
As  on  some  morn  the  loud  woodcutter's  din 
By  some  bright  hillside.     Knight  encounters  knight 
In  serried  thunders.     All  the  kingdom's  turned 
To  one  mad  tournament  of  blood  and  flame. 
{The  battle  is  heatd  moving  neater.  Both  rush  out.    Another 
part  of  the  field.    Enter  Arthur  surrounded  by  knights. 

Arthur.  Now  where  is  he,  that  monster,  foul,  deformed, 


SC.  IV,]      ^  MORDRED.  '  '03 

In  shape  and  spirit,  Nature  calls  my  son?  .■  «?] -r  Vi;^  f  >i?i;  U 


>.,fVr'-'  r^f"*\^ 


'  '"       ^^er  MoRDRED. 

Mordred.  Here  !  H^.-^'Xy'k:'.L[;^Ai\'''i, 

Arthur.  Ah,  Blot  on  all  this  sunlight,  Creature  dire, 


Spawn  of  mine  incest.     There  standest  thou  my  sin, 

Incarnate  now  before  me,  mine  old  doom, 

Thou  that  wast  stronger  in  thine  influences 

To  work  dread  evil  in  this  hideous  world. 

Than  all  the  glory,  all  my  good  might  win.        '!    i       >"    ** 

,    Mordred.  Father!  .  ^.  r.,..  ,.^..,,     , 

Arthur.  Yea,  well  say  Father  !     Parent  I  this  ill 
That  hath  enrent  my  kingdom  all  in  twain. 
In  that  dread  night  of  my  licentious  youth. 
When  I  in  darkness  thy  foul  shape  begot, 
I  worked  a  web  of  blackness  round  my  fate, 
And  thine,  distorted  phantom  of  my  sin. 
Not  all  the  tolling  of  sweet  abbey-bells 
And  murmur  of  masses  sung  these  thousand  years. 
Can  sweep  from  this  doomed  kingdom.     Father,  yea, 
.There  is  no  truce  betwixt  us.     Thou  art  Death 
To  all  that  I  hold  dearest  on  this  earth. 
Thou  stood'st  betwixt  me  and  my  gladder  fate, 
The  one  black  spot  on  all  my  glory's  sun. 
In  thee  once  more  mine  evil  blackens  in, 
Reddens  mine  eyesight.    Have  at  thee,  foul  Curse  ! 

Mordred.  Father  ! 

Arthur.  Have  at  you  !  They  fight.  (Arthur  wounds 
Mordred.  He  falls.  A  Knight  stabs  Arthur  from 
behind.) 

Arthur.  Ho  !  all  the  sunlight  blackens  !  Mordred  !  Oh  ! 
My  glory  darkens  !  Curtain  not  yon  sun  !  (Dies.) 

Mordred.  Yea,  this  is  all  and  I  were  made  for  this, 
To  scatter  death  and  desolation  round 
On  this  fair  kingdom,  ruin  this  sweet  land. 
And  level  all  the  pride  of  Arthur's  glory. 
As  men  might  level  some  great  castle  walls, 


I04  ^^^^^:':  .r  MORDRED.  -    .  [aCT  IV 

And  sow  with  salt  the  fields  of  his  desire,  j  V;     r 

And  make  him  mock  before  the  eyes  of  men. 

Turn  all  his  great  joy  into  bitterness. 

Yea,  I  his  blood,  and  I  were  made  for  this.  ,  r 

Oh  ancient,  cruel  Laws  of  human  life,  r.;,.  ,v;^i 

Oh  deep,  mysterious,  unfathomable  Source         .   !       i  ; 

Of  man's  poor  being,  we  are  ringed  about 

With  such  hard  rinds  of  hellish  circumstance, 

That  we  can  never  walk  or  breathe  or  hope,  ^,    -^, 

Or  eye  the  sun,  or  ponder  on  the  green  ■  ;  ■ 

Of  tented  plain,  or  glorious  blue  of  Heaven,         " 

Or  know  love's  joy,  or  knotted  thews  of  strength. 

But  imps  of  evil  thoughts  creep  in  between,  /    *      . 

Like  lizards  in  the  chinks  of  some  fair  wall,  r   i 

And  mar  life's  splendor  and  its  fairness  all. 

'Tis  some  damned  birth-doom  blended  in  the  blood 

That  prophecies  our  end  m  our  poor  acts. 

Oh  1  we  are  but  blind  children  of  the  dark 

Wending  a  way  we  neither  make  nor  ken. 

Yea,  Arthur,  I  had  loved  thee  sweet  and  well,  , 

And  made  mine  arm  a  bulwark  to  thy  realm,        s  v-" 

Had  I  been  but  as  fair  as  Launcelot.  ->  ,^^ 

What  evil  germ,  false  quickening  of  the  blood, 

Did  breed  me  foul,  distorted  as  I  am, 

That  I  should  mar  this  earth  and  thy  great  realm 

With  my  wry,  knotted  sorrows  ?     Launcelot's  love 

Was  manly,  kmd,  and  generous  as  became 

A  soul  encased  in  such  propitious  frame. 

The  kingly  trees  well  turn  them  to  the  sun. 

And  glory  in  their  splendor  with  the  morn. 

'Tis  natural  that  noble  souls  should  dwell 

'Twixt  noble  features,  but  the  maimed  soul 

Should  ever  be  found  in  the  distorted  shape. 

But  I  had  lov^d  as  never  man  hath  loved 

Did  nature  only  plant  me  sweet  at  first. 

(2'o  his  Knights.)  And  now  I  die,  and  blessed  be  my  death, 

More  blessed  far  that  I  hajd  never  breathed. 

Murder  and  Treason  were  my  midwives  dire, 

Rapine  and  Carnage,  priests  that  shrive  me  now. 


SC^   IV.]  MORDRED.  l^  •:       lOS 

Enter  Vivien,  disguised  as  a  Squire.      ;  f* 
I%/^«.  Mordred  !  thou  diest  !    'y';*^-  >t-';;:-,'t-;-''^^^'f'' 

Mordred.  Who  art  thou  ?    ^:  >yfiia^;rk  . 

Vivien.  I  am  Vivien.  '    >   !'     iJ  ' 

Mordred.  Hence,  hence  Viper,  incarnate  Fiend. 
Not  natural,  woman,  but  Ambition  framed,'!:;.    M 
And  all  lust's  envy.     Thou  wert  unto  me     v.  t  '  %-^^:-a.  i?i ;>. 
A  blacker  blackness.     Did  an  angel  come,  • 

And  whisper  sweeter  counsel  in  mine  ears.         ,^.  v 

And  trumpet  hopes  that  all  were  not  in  vain. 
But  thou  wouldst  wool  mine  ears  with  malice  dire. 
And  play  upon  the  black  chords  of  my  heart. 
Hence,  Devil !    Mar  not  these  my  closing  hours.        ■ 

Vivien.  O,  Woe  !   Woe  !     (Steals  out.) 

Mordred  {To  the  Knights.)   Now  bear  me  slowly  to  great 
And  let  me  place  my  hands  upon  his  breast,    [Arthur's  side 
For  he  was  mine  own  father  !  Alas  !  Alas  ! 
So  hideous  is  this  nature  we  endure. 

{The  Soldiers  place  him  by  Arthur.) 

How  calm  he  sleeps,  Allencthon,  as  those  should 
Who  die  in  glorious  battle.     Dost  thou  know 
Oh  !  mighty  father  that  thine  ill-got  son, 
Ill-got  of  nature  and  mysterious  night. 
To  mar  thy  splendor  and  enwreck  this  worlds 
Now  crawls  to  thy  dead  body  near  his  death, 
As  would  some  wounded  dog  of  faithful  days, 
To  lick  his  master's  hand  ?     Blame  not,  O  King, 
If  thou  somewhere  may  know  what  I  here  feel, 
Thy  poor,  misshapen  Mordred.     Blame  him  not 
The  turbulent,  treacherous  currents  of  his  blood 
Which  were  a  part  of  thine,  nor  let  one  thought 
Of  l*is  past  evil  mar  thy  mighty  rest ; 
I  wouM  have  loved  thee,  but  remember  that. 
Now,  past  is  all  this  splendour,  new  woilds  come. 


I06  MORDRED.  [aC1\V. 

But  nevermore  will  Britain  know  such  grace, 

Such  lofty  glory  and  such  splendid  days. 

Back  of  the  clang  of  battle,  back  of  all 

The  mists  of  life,  the  clamour  and  the  fall 

Of  ruined  Icingdoms  built  on  human  days, 

Arthur  1  Merlin  !     Mighty  dead,  I  come  ! 

{Springs  to  his  feet.) 

Ho  !  Horse  !  To  horse  !    My  sword  !  A  trumpet  calls  ! 

A  Mordred  !  {Dies.) 

\Ciirtain. 


THE    END. 


HILDEBRAND. 


■'*,h. 


AN    HISTORICAL    TRAGEDY. 


FOUNDED  ON  THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER 


OF 


THE  GREAT  POPE  GREGORY  VH, 


His  Struggle  for  Supremacy  with  Henry  IV  of  Germany, 
AND  His  Enforcement  of  the  Celibacy  of  the  Clergy. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONAL. 


HiLDEBTiA^Dy  Pope  Gregory  VII.  J    ^' 

Henry  /F,  of  Germany. 

Peter,  I)aii%ian%  a  monk  (friend  to  Hildebrand). 
Gerbhert,  a  married  priest  of  Milan.  •  «, 

Ariald,  a  decretal  jyreacher  {lover  of  Margaret).         \ 

■  w  •  '■ '.         :"'V  '^  ...,  ■ .- 

Arnulph,  a  decretal  preacher.  vv 

Brunelli,  a  cardinal.        ;   -      "  ^^v 

Bishop  of  Bam\)urg. 

Wolf,  Lord  of  Bamhurg,  a  German  Noble. 

Two  Burghers. 

■rjr^      '    >  <wo  monks. 

An  Abbot. 

A  Warder. 

Queen  of  Germany. 

Margaret,  mife  of  Gerhhert  and  daughter  of  Hildebrand. 

Catherine,  mother  of  Margaret  and  former  wife  of  Hilde- 
brand. 

Cardinals,  Lords,  Bishops,  Soldiers,   Monks,  Burghers  and 

Pages. 


,  (.f,Vr-'^v'.A.r'''k^_.|M;^  '  ':-"' 


HILDEBRAND. 


■•  «.  ; 


■    ,".-f.;  ACT    I.  ;":;.:••  ■^"'ak;  :;rV''*^.      '-  ^ 

SCENE  I. — {I^ise  outer  Curtain.)     An  Inn-yard  in  Milan. 
Two  Burghers  discovered  seated  at  a  tabky  drinking. 

jst  B.  Well,  well,  these  be  the  strange  days  incieed,indeed  ! 

2nd  B.  (^Rather  drunk. \     How  now,  neighbor  Burnard, 

how  now  ?  ^  ^^ 

1st  B.  Heardst  thou  not  the  news,  good  Neighbor  ?  But 
with  thy  nose  always  i'  the  wine-pot,  thou  canst  not 
know  anything  aside  its  rim. 

.  2nd  B.  Wine-pot,  wine-pot,  thou  sayst  ha  !  ha  !  nosei'  the 
wine-pot  thou  sayest,  'tis  belter  than  sticking  it  into 
every  business  save  thine  own,  hey!  neighbor  Burnard  ! 
But  what  be  this  news  that  would  keep  the  nose  out  o' 
the  wine-pot  ? 

1st  B.  There  be  a  new  Pope  at  Rome,  the  Monk,  Hilde- 
brand.     How  Hke  you  that  ? 

2nd  B.  God,  keep  us  all !  Now  thou  dos*  say  it  I  It 
seemeth  they  be  making  new  Popes  every  Michaelmas. 
This  were  no  reason  for  to  keep  the  nose  outside  the 
wine-pot.  ,  Here's  to  his  health,  God  save  him  ! 

'Twere  a  merry  grape  was  squeezed  for  this,  good 
Neighbor.  Here's  long  life  to  thee  an'  the  Holy  Pope, 
and  especially  to  the  royal  Henry.  Soon  may  he  come 
to  Italy. 

1st  B,  It  be  said,  Henry  cannot  sleep  o*  nights  i'  his  bed, 
for  the  making  ot  this  same  Pope,  Hilde  brand,  or 
Hellbrand,  as  some  folks  call  him.  But  hast  thou 
heard  the  greater  news  ? 


no  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  I. 

2nd  B.  Nay,  what  now  ?  Nothing  be  new  now.  Nothing 
be  new,  along  o'  fighting  and  preaching  and  lechering 
and  damning  in  the  Church  and  Slate.  Nothing  be 
new  save  drinking,  and  that  be  ever  new.  Ha  !  ha  ! 
What  else  be  new  ? 

jst  B.  'Tis  concerning  this  same  scarce-baked  Pope,  this 
Hellbrand.  'Tis  said  he  hath  sworn  by  the  mass  and 
all  the  saints  never  to  rest  until  he  hath  unwived  all 
the  priests  i'  Europe.  How  like  you  that,  good 
neighbor  Burnard  ? 

2nd  B.  Ho  !  ho  !  'Tis  a  good  joke.  Unwive  the  priests! 
'Tis  a  good  joke.  'Twere  well  for  me  and  thee  did  he 
swear  a  vow  to  unwive  all  the  burghers  i'  Milan. 
'T would  gie  one  I  know  more  peace  i'  his  bed  o'  nights. 
'Tis  the  priests  ever  have  all  the  good  fortune  i'  Europe. 
Ah  me,  ah  me  I  'Tis  ever  so. 

1st  B.  Yea,  but  there's  more  news  yet,  good  Neighbor, 
this  same  Hellbrand,  which  be  a  good  name  for  him  if 
he  be  Pope,  hath  sent  out  two  wondrous  preachers, 
endowed  with  uncommon  powers  of  tongue  and  orders, 
to  spread  this  same  doctrine  in  all  Italy  and  throughout 
Europe ;  an'  it  be  said  they  took  fearsome  oaths,  on 
pain  of  eternal  damnation,  not  to  rest  till  they  had 
done  so ;  an'  further,  'tis  said,  they  be  here  to-night  to 
preach  i'  the  market. 

2nd  B.  I'  Milan  ? 

.  1st  B.  {Rising.)  Yea  i'  Milan,  here,  i'  the  square. 

2nd  B.  Well  now  !  It  do  be  passing  strange,  well  now  ! 
It  be  a  damn  law,  and  he  be  a  damn  liar,  who  saith 
not.  A  most  unnatural  law,  for  our  good  pastor. 
Were  it  my  case  now,  it  were  fitting,  {ist  goes  out)  who 

,  taketh  a  lecture  every  midnight  near  upon  cock-crow, 
such  as  no  Pope's  Bull  could  outwit  in  language  an' 
rhetoric.  Say  good  Neighbor,  what  thinkest  thou? 
Might  I  not  be  made  a  priest  ?  What  be  qualifications? 
(Ha  !  he  hath  gone  ! )  I  could  drink  with  an  abbot, 
yea,  an  archbishop,  yea,  I'll  see  this  same  Hellbrand 


SCI.]  ■         HILDEBRAND.  Ill 

about  the  matter:  it  shall  be  done,   be  done,   ha  !    ha  !    it 
shall  be  done.     {Reels  07tt,) 

(Rise  inner  Curtain,  the  market  place.)     Enter  several  jolly 

Monks. 

1st.  (Sings)  Ours  be  a  jolly  life, 
No  care  nor  ill  have  we,  - 

We  neither  toil  nor  starve  nor  beg, 
But  live  right  merrily. 

All.  No  wife  to  scold,  no  child  to  squall. 
An'  put  us  on  the  rack  ; 
We  drink  good  wine,  we  kiss  the  maids, 
An'  the  Pope  is  at  our  back. 

2nd.  So  here's  unto  the  jolly  monk,  (all grasp  hands), 
And  here's  to  him,  alack,  [all  clench  fisfs) 
Who'd  turn  him  from  his  board  and  bunk, 
For  the  Pope  is  at  his  back. 

All.  The  Pope  is  at  our  back,  good  Freres, 
The  Pope  is  at  our  back  ; 
VV^e  fleece  the  churls,  we  scorn  the  King, 
For  the  Pope  is  at  our  back.     (All pass  on.) 

Eftter  a  great  ctowd  of  Burghers,  men  and  women, 
who  fill  the  market.  Enter  Arnulph  and  Ariald,  the 
decretal  preachers.  Arnulph  ascends  a  -pulpit  to  harangue 
the  crowd.) 

Arnulph.  Know  ye  Citizens  and  Burghers  of  Milan,  that 
whereas  in  the  past,  by  reason  of  evils  and  curses, 
through  the  power  of  the  Devil,Holy  Church  hath  fallen 
into  abomination,  to  the  shame  of  men  and  sorrow^  of 
Heaven,  it  hath  here  now  and  at  this  time,  behooved 
her  to  cast  off  certain  of  those  abominations,  to  wit, 
especially  that  most  heinous  sin,  whereby  the  priests  of 
the  altar,  do,  without  grace  and  carnally  given,  co-habit 
in  concubinage  with  those  weaker  vessels,  even  as  do 
the  common  and  unsanctified  of  humanity  \  wherefore 
know  ye  Citizens  and  Burghers  of  this  city  of  Milan, 
that  the  Holy  Father  doth  now  and  at  this  time,  by  me 
and  through  me,  instruct  you  each  and  collectively,  of 


1 1  2  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  I. 

the  dreadful  enormity  of  this  most  damnable  sin, 
whereby  the  holy  priesthood  is  made  of  none  eftect, 
and  Holy  Church  doth  languish  in  weakness  and  vas- 
salage to  the  princes  and  lords  of  this  carnal  world, — 
know  ye, — 

A  Burgher.  Most  reverend  Doctor,  cut  ye  short  the 
"  know  ye's  "  an'  the  "  wherefores  "  and  th'  "  verbia- 
tions  "  an'  the  "  latinities  "  an'  come  down  from  your 
high  flown  rostrum  an'  tell  us  the  church's  will.  We 
be  plain  men. 

Other  Burghers.  Well  done,  Big  Gellert.  Thou  art  in 
the  right  of  it.     Bravo  !    Gellert. 

Ariaid.  Insolent  Lump  !  would'st  thou  interrupt  a  doctor 
of  Holy  Church  ? 

Gellert.  Holy  Church  confound  him  and  thee,  too,  thou 
sour-faced  varlet !  Who's  a  talking  of  Holy  Church  ?  He 
is  but  a  stray  rooster  from  some  mad  convent,  an'  thou 
his  mate  ranting  on  a  mad  doctrine.  Holy  Church 
teacheth  no  such   damned  doctrine.       Be   we  fools? 

Burghers.  Well  hit.  Big  Gellert,  thou  canst  give  him  the 
latinities  of  it.     Hit  him  back,  old  Pigeon  ! 

Arnulph.  Beware,  thou  impious  Mountain  of  mortality, 
an'  ye  foolish  burghers  lest  ye  insult  in  me  a  power  that 
is  behind  me. 

A  Clerk.  Come,  come,  get  thee  down,  we  want  no  such 
strange  doctrines.  We  have  had  clergy,  good  men 
with  wives  and  chicks  i'  Milan,  these  centuries  back, 
an'  we  be  no  Sodom. 

Arnulph.  I  know  not  your  customs,butinthe  name  of  Holy 
Church,  I  Arnulph,  hereby  command  ye  on  pain  of 
deepest  Hell  hereafter,  that  ye  abstain  from  all  n>asses 
made  or  performed  by  any  priest  who  continues  in  this 
unholy  state,  for  I  tell  you  be  he  priest,  archdeacon, 
bishop  or  archbishop,  he  is  accursed,  and  doubly 
accursed. 

Gellert.  Thine  be  a  big  curse  indeed,  an'  by  'r  I^dy,  thou 
mouthest  it  well. 


SC.  I.]  HILDEBRAND.  II3 

Clerk.  Dost  thou  tell  us  our  good  pastor  be  in  mortal  sin 
because  he  liveth  with  a  good  wife  as  do  other  men  ? 

Arnulph.  Have  I  not  said  it  ? 

Geliert.  Then  art  thou  a  brazen  liar,  an'  comest  thou 
down,  I  will  give  the  non  of  it  on  thy  brazen  chops, 
itioxx  leathern-lunged  Varlet  of  Satan. 

Arnulph.  Dog  of  Hell,  the  arm  that  toucheth  me  Heaven 
will  wither.  ! 

{A  great  clamor  arises.)  Enter  Gerbhert,  the  Parish  Priest. 

Gerbhert.  What  meaneth  this  disturbance  i'  my  parish  ? 
I  thought  I  ruled  a  peaceful,  God-fearing  people,  an' 
rot  a  brawling  rabble. 

Geliert.  Pray,  good  Father,  'tis  yon  loud-mouthed  Dog  of 
Satan,  hath  insulted  you  an'  all  Milan  by  his  mad 
heresy. 

Gerbhert.  Insulteth  me,  good  Geliert  ?  {to  Arnulph)  Who 
are  you  who  without  my  license  come  disturbing  my 
flock  with  thme  unseemly  harangues  ?  Come  down  from 
yon  pulpit  !  {To  the  crotvd.)  Good  People,  in  God's 
name,  go  home. 

Arnulph.  Nay,  I  will  not  come  down  till  I  have  delivered 
this  my  messag'e  to  this  foolish  mob,  an'  to  thee,  thou 
carnal-minded  Priest.  In  the  name  of  the  Holy 
Church  I  exhort  ye, — 

Gel.  He  saith,  Pastor  Gerbhert,  that  thou  canst  no  more 
make  masses,  being  a  wedded  man. 

Gerb.  (Jb  Arnulph.)     Be  this  true? 

Am.  It  is  true,  by  the  Mother  of  God.  An'  thou  wilt  feel 
it  too  ere  thou  art  an  hour  older. 

Gerb.  Nay,  Man,  thou  art  mad,  this  cannot  be  ! 

Ar.  *Tis  even  so  as  we  be  Holy  Church's  men. 

Gerb.  Ha  !  art  thou  not  Ariald,  once  of  Rome  ? 

Ar.  Yea,  I  am  that  same  Ariald. 


114  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  I 

Gerb.  Then  tell  me  Ariald,  by  our  one-time  friendship, 
that  this  man  be  mad,  an'  his  message  but  a  foolish 
doctrine. 

Ar,  Nay,  Gerbhert,  but  'tis  thou  art  foolish,  an'  this  law 
but  too  true,  thou  must  obey. 

Gcfb.  Then  will  I  fight  this  mad  heresy,  this  inhuman 
code.  That  we  must  give  up  our  wives  an'  babes,  our 
pure  homes,  an'  all  that  is  holiest  on  earth  !  Nay,  it 
cannot  be  !  'Tis  devilish  ! 

Ar.  But  thou  must  obey  or  be  driven  out. 

Gerb.  Ariald,  thou  knowest  my  Margaret,  thou  knowest 
her  sweet  nature,  her  holy  conversation.  She  hath  no 
devil,  that  her  loving  should  make  me  unworthy. 

Gel.  'Tis  damnable,  good  Father.  But  give  me  the  word 
an'  we  will  trounce  them  out  o'  the  market. 

Enter  Margaret,  the  Priest's  Wife. 

Marg.  Gerbhert !  Gerbhert  !  Good  citizens  have  you 
seen  the  pastor  ?  Mother  Bernard,  poor  soul,  needeth 
the  last  rites,  she  be  dying. 

GeL  Aye,  thou  wert  ever  an  angei  of  mercy  from  heaven 
to  the  sick  an'  poor. 

Marg.  What  aileth  thee,  Gerbhert  ?  What  may  be  the 
matter  ? 

Gerb.  Come  hither  Margaret,  this  man  telleth  me 
So  strange  a  thing,  I  know  not  if  he  be  mad 
Who  sayeth  it,  or  I  who  hear  his  words. 
He  sayeth  I  am  no  more  a  priest  of  God 
While  I'm  thy  husband. 

Marg.  Not  priest  of  God  while  thou  art  husband  ?  Nay! 
But  he  is  mad  indeed,  for  thou  art  both, 
A  good  kind  pastor,  as  these  people  know. 
And  as  I  know,  a  good  and  loving  husband. 

Gerb.  He  saith  'tis  some  new  law  within  the  church. 
He  saith  in  sooth,  sweet  Margaret,  I  must  either 
Put  thee  away  or  leave  the  priesthood. 


SCI,]  HILDEBRAND.  115 

Matg.  An'  what  say  yoii,  my  Gerbhert  ? 

Gerb.  That  I  will  fight  it  to  the  bitter  end, 
I  will  be  both  or  there's  no  God  in  Heaven. 
Ariald,  thou  knowest  my  good  Margaret, 
The  woman  of  my  choice,  my  youth's  one  love, 
I  will  not  give  her  up.     The  Holy  Father 
Shall  know  of  this  strange  doctrine.     He  snail  judge 
'Twixt  thee  and  me. 

Am.  Know  then  thou  carnal  Priest  that  even  now 
He  hath  decided  ;  'tis  by  his  own  will 
That  we  be  here,  here  is  his  written  word. 

{Holds  up  the  Pope's  Bull)  . 

Yea,  further,  you  shall  choose  you  even  now. 
Thou  shalt  not  shrive  yon  dying  woman,  till 
Thou  hast  renounced  this  woman. 

Gerb,  My  sweet  Margaret,  put  your  trust  in  me. 
{To  Arnulph.)  Thou  cruel  preacher,  show  me  yon   dread 
Whose  horns  do  even  now  rend  me.     Tell  me  now      [bull, 
'Tis  but  a  lie  and  not  great  Hildebrand's. 
I  knew  him  once,  he  seemed  a  kindly  man, 
And  never  one  to  part  a  wife  and  husband. 

Gel.  Let  me  see  yon  paper,  let  me  see  thou  liest. 
Nay,  'tis  the  Pope's  name.     This  b^,  a  damned  world  ! 
Good  Father  Gerbhert,  tell  us  if  this  paper 
Be  what  he  saith  ?   {Hands  paper  /^Gerbhert,  who  reads.) 
(Margaret  goes  near  Gerbhert.) 

Getb.  Margaret,  come  not  so  near,  O  Margaret  come  not 
so  near, — I  love  thee  Margaret — but — O  my  God  ! 

Marg.  Gerbhert,  Gerbhert,  thou  wilt  not  desert  me. 
Remember  our  sweet-babe. 

Ar.  Margaret,  touch   not  that  man,  he  is  God's   own. 
Leav,  him. 

Am.  Even  so.     Wouldst  thou  curse  him  with  thy  touch? 

Marg.  Evil  Man,  good  Friends,  forgive  my  misery. 


Il6  HILDEBRAND,  [aCT  I, 

But  even  now,  as  I  did  pass  our  home, 

I  left  his  little  one,  and  mine,  asleep. 

His  sweet  face  pillowea  on  his  rosy  arm, 

I  bent  and  kissed  him,  he  did  look  so  like. 

His  father,  and  now  good  friends  forgive  me,  it  is  but 

A  passing  madness,  but  it  seemed  these  men 

Had  built  a  wall  of  hideous  black  between 

Me  and  my  husband. 

Gerb.  Margaret,  back  !  as  thou  lovest  me  ! 
Nay,  touch  me  not,  I  am  a  banished  man, 
Good  Friends,  brave  Gellert,  pardon  my  poor  feelings. 
For  I  am  now  afflicted  by  dread  heaven 
For  some  gone,  unknown  sin  ot  my  past  youth. 
Perchance  I  murdered  one  in  hideous  sleep, 
Strangled  some  infant  on  its  mother's  breast, 
Violated  some  pure  sanctuary  ; 
That  this  dread  blackness  lieth  on  me  now. 

0  Margaret,  thou  art  sprmgtime  vanished  past. 
And  this  be  autumn  all  dead  leaves  and  rain, 
With  all  of  mem'ry's  summer  'twixt  us  twain. 

To  think  and  dream  forever.     Forgive,  my  friends, 
This  week  unseemliness  in  me  your  pastor. 

1  ever  did  love  mercy,  dealt  but  tardily 

With  those  who  seemed  to  suffer  more  than  sin, 
Looked  up  to  heaven  and  led  my  people,  trusting  ; 
And  now  I  am  brought  beneath  the  crudest  hand 
That  ever  pointed  two  roads  to  a  man. 
Arnulph,  Ariald,  forgive  my  former  heat, 
Vou  do  but  your  bare  duty.     Friends  they're  right, 
And  I  your  whilom  pastor  in  the  wrong. 
For  I  mistook  the  face  of  earth's  poor  love 
And  dreamed  a  stair  of  human  happiness 
Did  lead  to  Heaven.     See  me  now  rebuked. 
'Tis  the  Pope's  will.     Arnulph,  read  thou  this. 
I  charge  thee,  as  the  pastor  of  this  parish. 
That  you  leave  out  no  word  however  hard. 
Nor  soften  down  one  sentence  of  this  curse, 
Or  its  conditions. 


SC.  I.  HILDEBRAND.  II 7 

Am.  Of  a  surety  I'll  not. 

Ar.  He  shall  not !  And  harken,  you,  good  people,  do  you 
listen  ! 

Matg,  Gerbhert,  come  home,  I  will  not  hear  that  curse 
That  parts  us  twain.     My  breaking  heart  it  seems 
Doth  hear  our  baby  cry. 

Am.  Silence  Woman  ! 

Marg.  You  would  silence  the  angels.  Work  you  this  deed, 
I  tell  you  Man,  you  shut  all  Heaven  out 
And  let  in  Hell,  you  desolate  God's  glad  homes 
^  By  your  brute  ministry  that  knows  not  love. 

Am.  The  love  of  heaven  knoweth  not  carnal  love. 

Marg.  Forgive  me  Sir  !  Stern  Sir  !  would  woman's  tears* 
But  move  you,  would  woman's  pleaded  prayers 
But  change  you  to  the  softest  kindly  thought, 
I  would  beg  of  you,  read  not  that  curse.  a 

Am.  Silence,  Woman  ! 

Gerb.  Margaret,  by  your  love  for  me,  be  silent. 

Am.  {Reads.)  In  the  name  of  God,  amen  :  Gregory  the 
Seventh  by  the  will  of  Heaven,  Pope,  Vicar  of  Christ, 
successor  of  Holy  Peter,  sendeth  greeting  to  all 
Christian  peoples,  and  commandeth,  that  any  priest 
living  with  a  woman  in  the  so-called  marriage  state, 
shall  be  accursed  : — that  any  person  who  receiveth  at 
his  hands  any  or  more  offices  of  Holy  Church  shall 
also  be  accursed. — That  furthermore,  all  offices  so 
exercised  by  him  shall  not  only  be  rendered  null  and 
void  of  all  good  effect,  but  shall  rather  be  regarded  by 
Holy  Church  as  acts  accursed.  That  this  same  law  be 
proclaimed  in  all  parishes  throughout  Christendom. 
Know  ye  that  this  be  my  will. 

Signed, 

Gregory. 
Marg.  Gerbhert,  O  God,  Gerbhert,  where  art  thou? 


Il8  '  HILt>EBRAND.  ACT  I. 

Gerb.  Margaret,  touch  me  not,  we  must  obey 
When  Heaven  speaks. 

Marg.  Not  when  it  utters  thunders  such  as  this. 

Arn.  Choose,  Gerbhert,  twixt  this  woman  and  thine  office. 
Take  her  with  thee  to  Hell,  cr  both  win  Heaven. 

Gerb.  I  have  chosen,  let  me  go  and  die. 

Marg.  O  Gerbhert,  come  and  kiss  our  little  babe. 
Say  one  good-bye,  to  home,  before  you  go, 
I'll  not  detain  you,  I  say  it  on  my  knees, 
I'll  not  detain  you. 

Gerb.  Margaret,  would  you  curse  us  with  your  love  ? 
I  can  hear  the  Holy  Father's  voice 
Though  he's  in  Rome,  saying,  nay,  nay,  to  thee. 
Farewell,  ^Margaret,  we  will  meet  in  heaven. 

[Goes  out  with  Arnulph  and  Ariald.) 

Matg.  Nay,  I  am  mad,  'twas  this  o'er  nursing  did  it. 
Gerbhert,  tell  me,  tell  me,  I  am  mad. 
Good  friends,  O  pardon  your  poor  Margaret. 
P  who  will  lead  me  home  ! 

[^Curtain, 


SCENE  \l.— Place,    Home   of   Pastor   GerhJiert.       Enter 
Catherine,  Mother  to  Margaret. 

Cath.  What  can  keep  her,  what  can  keep  her  ?   Oh,  here 
she  comes.     {Enter  Margaret,  weeping.) 

Marg.  Mother,  Mother,  take  me,  take  me  home. 
Home  ?  Where  be  home  ?  Are  not  these  walls  familiar  ? 
Did  they  not  mean  the  place  where  we  had  dwelt, 
And  hoped  and  loved  ?     And  what  are  they  made  now, 
Hut  empty  phantasies  of  a  broken  past  ? 
O  Mother,  Mother,  bring  me  to  my  child. 
The  world  is  dead,  the  world  is  aged  and  dead. 

Cath.  My  God,  my  God,  Margaret,  are- you  mad?    - 


SC.  II.]  HILDEBRAND.  H9 

Marg.  My  husband  !  Oh,  my  husband ! 

Cath.  Gerbhert !  What  of  Gerbhert  ?  Is  he  dead  ? 

Marg.  Aye,  dead  to  me. 

Cath.  You  speak  in  riddles,  daughter. 

Marg.  Life  is  a  hideous  riddle  unto  some, 
That  it  were  better  they  had  never  solved. 

Cath.     Margaret,  I  am  your  mother.     Tell  me  quick, 
Gerbhert,  where  is  Gerbhert  ?  Will  he  come  ? 

Marg.  He  will  never  come.  O  Mother  !  O  Mother  !    . 

Cath.  What  are  your  words  ?   Where  hath '  he  gone,  my 
Child? 

Marg.  How  can  I  tell  you  ?   Tis  the  church's  will 
That  he  must  leave  me,  I  must  be  no  wife, 
Or  he  no  husband.     The  Pope  hath  sworn  it. 

Caih.  The  Pope  !  The  Pope,  you  say  ? 

Marg.  Aye,  the  Pope. 

Cath.  Nay,  not  the  Pope.     You  are  dreaming,  dreaming, 
This  working  with  the  sick,  hath  turned  your  brain    [Child, 

Marg.  Nay  mother,  'twere  a  blessing,  were  I  mad. 
'Tis  only  but  too  true,  I  heard  it  now 
Out  in  the  market.     Gerbhert  heard  it  too. 
And  he  hath  gone.     O  God  !  yes  he  hath  gone, 
And  on  his  face  the  doom  of  Death  was  writ. 

Cath.  Mother  of  heaven  !  and  it  hath  come  to  this. 
Is  there  no  God,  that  men  in  heaven's  name 
Break  up  earth's  homes,  and  make  a  waste  like  this  ? 
Daughter,  Margaret,  where  hath  Gerbhert  gone  ? 

Marg.  Let  me  die.     But  let  me  die  in  peace. 

Cath.  Nay,  nay,  this  shall  not  be,  this  hideous  law 
Must  drift  aside.     Daughter,  harken  me. 

Marg.  There  is  no  hope.    The  Pope  hath  willed  it  so. 

Cath,  Nay,  he  will  hear  me,  I  will  make  him  hear. 
I  have  a  secret  you*  have  never  known, 
Nor  any  in  Italy. 


120  '         HILDEHRAND.  ACT  I. 

Marg.  The  Cardinals  at  Rome  will  never  hear  thee. 
Gregory  will  never,  never  hear  thee. 
'Tis  vain. 

Cath.  Fear  not  for  me,  I  will  at  once  to  Rome 
And  crush  this  evil  matter,  get  his  will 
To  bring  back  Gerbhert,  if  he  will  not  harken, — 

Marg.  We  can  but  die  1  ^ , 

Cath.  I  will  go  and  make  all  matters  ready. 
So  early  dawn  surprise  me  on  my  journey. 

Marg.  Nay,  mother,  leave  me  not.     I  feel  as  if 
All  lilp  "ere  desolated.     Leave  me  not. 

(Her  child  cries  within.) 

Yea,  my  sweet  fatherless  babe,  I'll  come  to  thee, 

Not  all  Rome's  Popes  can  say  nay,  nay,  to  that.  (Goes  within) 

Cath.  (Going  out.) 
O,  thou  that  cursed  me  in  mine  early  days. 
And  cast  this  shadow  all  across  my  life ; 
Wilt  thou  now  add  this  sorrow  to  mine  age  ? 
And  darken  my  last  years  ?  Is  there  no  God  ? 
O,  Night,  who  art  the  same,  whose  stars  look  dowm 
On  peace  and  madness,  human  joy  and  pain. 
If  there  be  help  within  thy  mighty  depths 
For  earth's  poor  creatures,  help  me,  help  me,  now.  (Goes  out.) 

Enter  Ariald. 

Ar.  She  is  alone.     My  power,  this  is  thine  hour. 
Margaret !  Margaret ! 

Enter  Margarat  eagerly. 

Marg.  O,  Gerbhert !  Have  you  come  ? 

Ar.  Margaret! 

Marg.  Sir  I ~0  cruel  disappointment !  I  had  thought 
It  were  my  husband.  * 

ilr.  Tis  but  a  friend. 

Marg.  Then  Friend,  bring  back  my  husband,  bring  him 
On  my  knees  I  beg  it.  *  [back 


SC.  II.]  HILDEBRAND.  121 

Ar.  I  may  not,  Margaret,  Heaven  only  hath  power 
To  stay  your  parting,  think  no  more  on  Gerbhert. 

Marg.  Then  wherefore  here  ? 

Ar.  In  pity  for  your  sorrow  I  have  come. 
A  wedded  woman,  yet  no  longer  wed, 
So  young  and  fair,  so  helpless  to  protect 
Yourself  and  child  against  this  wicked  world  : 
Yea,  I  would  help  you. 

Marg.  My  heart,  had  it  but  room   for  else  than  sorrow 
Would  thank  your  kindness.    You  can  help  me  best 
By  bringing  back  the  lather  of  my  child, 
The  friend  who  onetime  loved  you. 

Ar.  It  cannot  be,  in  all  things  else  than  that 
My  power  can  help  you.  You  sin  grievous  sin 
When  you  still  mourn  him. 

Marg.  Nay,  nay,  if  sin,  then  life  is  all  one  sin, 
One  hideous  hell,  and  God  but  a  great  devil. 

Ar.  Woman,  you  blaspheme. 

Marg.  Nay,  rather  thou  blasphemest,  teaching  me 
That  human  love,  be  contraband  to  heaven. 
Not  all  your  Popes  and  Cardinals  standing  by. 
Can  make  me,  looking  on  my  babys  face, 
Forget  his  father. 

Ar.  Margaret,  by  this  love  you  bear  your  child, 

Fprget  this  Gerbhert.  He  was  never  yours. 
By  right  divme,  he  ever  was  Holy  Church's. 
You  only  damn  his  soul,  do  you  succeed. 

Marg.  Never !  never  !  This  be  hideous,  hideous  I 
My  womanhood  calls  out  against  this  lie. 

Ar.  If  you  are  wise  you  will  forget  this  man. 
I  tell  you  he  is  dead  to  you  and  earth. 
A  few  short  years  for  prayer  and  cloister  tears, 
Are  all  that's  left  him.     Margaret  you  are  fair. 
And  young  and  budding  for  the  joys  of  earth. 
Forget  this  Gerbhert.     There  are  other  men 
Would  seek  thy  love. 


123  •  HILDEBRAND.  ACT  I. 

Marg.  What  mean  these  words?  Insult  not  this  my  sorrow. 

Ar.  Margaret,  if  thou  wouldst  only  but  trust  me, 
My  love  is  thine. 

Marg.  Thou  devil ! 

Ar.  Margaret,  know  my  power.     Thou  art  alone, 
With  me  to  make  thy  life  a  hell  or  heaven. 

Marg.  Nay,  I  have  God.     O  heaven,  show  thy  face 
Through  this  dread  blackness  ! 

Ar.  Not  God  nor  any  can  give  thee  succor  now. 
Thy  husband  dead  to  thee  lorever  more. 
Choose  !  Black  Starvation  knocketh  at  thy  door  !       , 
Pity  thy  child  if  thou  wilt  not  thyself. 
I  have  long  loved  thee,  Margaret,  trust  to  me, 
Bethink  thee  of  thy  child. 

Marg.  Out !  out !  Blasphemer  !     If  the  Church  be  vile. 
If  justice  be  swept  from  earth  and  pity  dead. 
Though  devils  walk  this  world,  though  God  be  gone. 
Know,  there  be  left  one  righteous  woman's  scorn 
For  such  as  thee. 

Ar.  When  thou  dost  see  bleak  desolation  come. 
Gaunt,  burning  hunger  fill  thy  baby's  eyes, 
Thou'lt  come  to  me. 

Marg.  If  thou  be  Satan,  thou  black  Prince  of  Fiends, 
Thou  wearest  this  man's  form,  thou  firest  his  heart. 
( To  Ariald)  Go  !  Devil !  ere  I  forget  my  womanhood.  Go  ! 

Ar.  {Going  out.)     Remember  ! 

Marg.  If  there  be  nothing  in  this  world  for  me, 
I  have  a  friend  no  priest  nor  Pope  can  take. 
Whose  name  be  Death. 

[Curtain. 


SC.  I.]  HILDEBRAND.  1 23 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  I. — A  room  in  the  Papal  Palace  at  Rome.     Enter 
HiT.DEHRAND  as  Popc  and  Pkter  Damiani,  a  fanatic. 

Hild.  Know,  Peter,  I  am  a  man  of  single  purpose, 
To  make  all  Europe  bow  to  Peter's  knee, 
To  build  the  power  of  God  o'er  human  thrones, 
And  humble  kings  to  Christ  by  me  His  Legate. 

Pet.  Now,  thou  art  Hildebrand. 

Hild.  To  make  the  Crown  subservient  to  the  Cross 
In  all  things  ;  kill  out  simony  ; 
And  make  the  church  sole  granter  of  all  fiefs 
In  bishojiric  or  abbey  ;  hold  all  kings 
In  spiritual  feudality  to  my  will, 
To  wear  or  doff  their  crowns  at  word  of  Heaven, 
As  represent  in  me,  God's  vicarate. 

Pet.  There  spake  Peter,  indeed. 

Hild.  For  this  same  reason  I  carry  this  purpose  now. 
To  separate  humanity  from  the  church. 
And  re-create  a  world  within  this  world, 
A  kingdom  in  these  kingdoms,  alienate 
From  all  the  loves  and  ties  that  weaken  men. 
By  rendering  all  the  priesthood  celibate, 
Espoused  only  unto  Holy  Church. 

Pet.  Wilt  carry  this  purpose  to  the  bitter  end  ? 

Hild.  Yea,  will  I,  unwive  I  half  the  world. 

Pet.  Now  will  God's  kingdom  rise  and  Hell's  go  down, 
With  man's  presumption.      Now  we'll  get  our  hands 
Clutched  at  the  throats  of  ail  these  bloody  princes. 

Hild.  Yea,  Peter. 

Pet.  Ha,  ha,  thou,  too,  hast  a  hate  for  kings. 

Hild.  Whoever  saw  a  monk  who  loved  a  king;  ? 
The  king  was  ever  our  natural  enemy. 


124  '  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

But  see  in  me  no  heaven-brooding  monk, 

But  many  men  in  one,  a  pope,  a  king, 

A  fierce  ambition,  like  a  burning  flame, 

To  put  these  times  and  peoples  'neath  my  feet. 

And  conquer  empires  to  my  finger's  will, 

So  that  I  nod,  and  all  kings  nod  with  me. 

This  be  the  ruling  passion  of  my  life. 

It  saved  me  from  the  common  daily  sins. 

Dost  thou  know,  Damiani,  I  once  loved 

A  woman,  even  as  other  men  have  loved. 

Did  marry  her,  overcome  by  human  passion  ; 

But  driven  by  the  demons  of  my  fate, 
i  Fled  fiom  her  unto  a  monastry,  ^  •  •  - 

Where  nights  of  prayer  aijid  fasting  weaned  my  heart 
j  To  larger  hopes  and  cravings.     Never  since  ; 

Have  I  set  eyes  upon  my  youthful  love 

Nor  heard  of  her,  though  sometimes  in  my  dreams 

She  comes  back  like  a  nightmare  to  my  heart. 

'Tis  strange  that  heaven  makes  our  being  so. 

But  she  hath  gone,  a  phantasma  upon 

The  fading  walls  of  my  heart's  memory. 

I  will  not  dwell  upon  her. 

Fef.  Gregory,  thou  wouldst  do  well  to  keep 
A  guard  upon  thy  passions.  , 

Hild.  Dost  know  me  Peter  ?     I  am  Hildebrand. 
The  ages  after  they  will  know  of  me, 
As  one  who  ruled  himself  and  all  the  world 
With  iron  hand,  who  changed  the  course  of  nature. 
And  rode  unmoved  o'er  rivers  of  human  tears 
For  God's  high  glory. 

Pet.  Unwive  the  priests  !     Unwive  the  priests  !     Tis  my 

[life's  passion 
Hild.  Peter,  Peter,  thou  art  over-hard  on  woman, 
She  is  not  all  the  devil  thou  hast  thought  her. 

Pet.  Yea,  devil  !  devil  !     Mention  not  the  name! 
They  are  all  devils,  even  thy  holy  Princess. 

Hild.  Peter  ! 


■1   < 


Jx>  -f.i 


SC.  I.]  HILDEBRAND.  I25 

/V/.  Yea,  Gregory,  I  will  say  it  to  thy  face. 
'Tis  not  the  Pope  she  leans  on,  'tis  the  man. 
I  tell  thee  Hildebrand,  Beatrice  loveth  thee, 
And  thou  art  Pope.     O  Woman,  Woman,  Woman  ! 
Thou  Satan's  agent  for  to  damn  this  world  ! 

Ht'/d.  Ah,  Peter,  thou  much  mistakest  Beatrice  ! 
If  ever  a  daughter  of  the  Mother  of  God 
Did  move  with  saintly  footsteps  o'er  this  earth,  ^     ' 

'Twas  Beatrice.     All  Holy  homes  of  God  4  ^    ;,  i> 

Within  her  happy  Duchy  rise  to  bless  her. 
The  grateful  poor  who  dwell  in  her  own  cities       : 
Would  do  her  reverence.     Peter,  thou  art  mad   ^    > 
On  this  one  subject.     Now  to  another  matter. 
Here  is  the  map  of  Europe,  all  mine  own. 
The  red  Wolf  of  the  Normans  he  may  growl,       :; 
The  Tigers  of  the  south  may  snarl  and  whine,      >  '  3 
But  all  are  mme,  are  mine.     I  hold  all  sheep,  . 

The  many  flocks  who  go  to  make  my  fold. 

JPef.  Yea,  thou  wilt  shear  them,  Hildebrand. 
But  what  of  Henry  ? 

Ift'/d.  That  name  !   that  name  !    I  would  that  this   same 
Were  shut  in  hell  !  Of  Europe's  many  kings,  [Henry. 

This  Henry  is  the  one  I  fear  the  most. 
These  dogs  of  Italy,  hounds  I  hold  in  leash 
To  tear  each  other  when  they'd  throttle  me. 
The  Norman  William  hath  his  own  affairs. 
He  is  a  heathen  hound  whom  I  would  use 
To  keep  my  Christian  sheep  in  quiet  fold, 
France  hath  her  ills  whereof  I  know  full  well. 
But  Henry  !  Henry  is  the  name  I  hate  ! 
His  is  the  other  name  that  stands  for  Rome. 
My  hope  is  this,  if  I  can  only  put 
This  arrogant  emperor  underneath  my  foot. 
As  this  same  parchment,  (hear  it  crunch  and  crack  1) 
So  I'd  crush  him  and  make  me  emperor,   * 
Then  mine  would  be  the  single  will  of  Europe. 
This  is  my  aim. 


126  '  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

Pet.  Why  dost  thou  pander  then  ?     He  laughs  at  thee 
And  all  thy  legates,  moves  his  licensed  way 
As  though  no  Mother  Church  held  holy  sway 
In  his  dominions,  selleth  bishoprics 
And  abbeys,  and  making  mock  allegiance 
Laughs  in  his  sleeve  at  thee,  the  Pope  of  Rome. 

Hild.  Let  him  laugh,  his  scorn  will  eat  him  yet. 
The  day  will  come  w^en  he  will  cease  to  laugh, 
For  I  am  Hildebrand,  I  bide  my  ^ime. 
I  hold  a  physic  that  will  purge  his  pride 
Of  all  its  riches. 

Pet.  Give  him  that  physic  quickly,  Hildebrand. 
Thou  art  not  fierce  enough.  Use,  use  thy  power, 
Ere  it  deserts  thee.     What  be  this  power  ? 

Hild.  The  Papal  curse. 

Pet.  Yea,  use  it  Grei^ory,  use  it  even  now. 

Hild'  Wait,  Peter,  thou  wilt  see  a  p'cture  yet, 
Wilt  hear  a  music  that  will  like  thine  ears. 
Thou  wilt  see  Henry,  Monarch  of  half  Europe, 
The  man  who  scoffs  at  monks,  and  uses  men 
As  players,  would  poor  chessmen  for  his  use 
To  play  with,  thou  wilt  see  this  man 
Shorn  of  his  greatness,  blasted  like  some  trunk 
Out  in  a  wasteland,  suing  with  suppliant  knee. 
And  begging  his  royalty  from  the  carpenter's  son. 

Enter  a  Page,  who  kneels. 

Page.  Your  Holiness,  Ambassadors  wait  without  with 
letters  from  Normandy,  {presents  letters.) 

Hild.  {Reads.)  To  his  Holiness,  the  Lord  Pope  of 
Rome,  William  of  Normandy  sendeth  greeting  ;  Holy 
Father  thine  obedient  son  and  ally,  William,  Prince  of 
the  Normans,  who  is  about  invading  England  for  the 
purpose  of  putting  the  outlawed  Saxon  under  the 
power  of  Holy  Church,  would  humbly  beseech  thy 
immediate  public  blessing  on  his  undertaking.  This 
land  be  sworn  by  Harold  in  fief  to  William,  on  the 
bones  of  holy  saints. 

[Signed]  William. 


SC  I.]  HILDEBRAND.  1 27 

Hild,  Ha,  Insolent ! 

Pet.  Writeth  he  thus  to  the  successor  of  Peter  ? 

Hild.  Insolent !  Ally,  ally  to  me,  Gregory. 
Immediate,  poor  suppliant  truly  this. 
Ah,  Europe,  Europe,  thoa  art  hard  to  grind. 
This  rude  wolf  would  make  a  bargain,  aye, 
'Tis  little  he  doth  care  for  Holy  Church. 
He'll  filch  my  England'^  abbeys,  waste  her  towns. 
To  fill  his  Norman  lusts.     Yet  he  is  strong, 
ril  use  this  wolf  to  bow  the  Saxon  neck. 

Pet.  Send  him  thy  curse. 

Hild.  Nay,  Peter,  he  would  laugh  and  throat  it  down 
In  Rhenish  flagon.     What  cares  he  for  Popes 
But  for  his  uses  ?     I  will  send  my  curse 
Some  other  day,  to-day  will  go  my  blessing.  ■    ;, 

My  curses  I  have  need  of  for  this  Henry.  I  VAi^  : : 

(7<?  Page.)     Show  them  in.  y^^r 

E7iter  Ambassadors. 

Hild.  You  come  from  Normandy. 

1st  Am.  Yea,  my  lord,  we  would  pray  your  holiness'  bles 

[sing. 

Hild.  Then  you  have  it. 
My  heart  is  ever  with  my  Norman  children. 
Would  that  they  loved  war  less  and  peace  the  more. 
O  Angel  of  Peace,  when  wilt  thou  compass  Europe  ? 
Tell  William  he  is  my  well-beloved  son, 
High  in  my  favor,  take  my  blessing  to  him, 
God's  mercy  goes  to  England  when  he  goes, 
And  Holy  Church's  curse  on  all  his  foes.  * 

Pet.  Amen. 

Ambs.  My  lord,  our  thanks.'  We  are  blest  indeed. 

Hild.  (To  Page.)     Bring  hither  our  most  costly  banner. 
(Page  brifif^s  banner,)     (Hildebrand  takes  banner^ 
May  all  who  fight  beneath  thee  ever  conquer, 
And  heaven  strike  the  foe  that  meeteth  thee. 


128  ,  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

{Gives  the  banner.)     Take  this  banner  to  our  well-beloved 

William  of  Normandy,  and  say  thus  to  him, — 
That  sending  him  this  we  make  him,  William  of  England. 

Amb.  We  will,  Your  Holiness. 

Hild.  My  blessing  with  you.    By  him  who  maketh  kings, 
Go  you  propitious. 

Exit  Ambassadors. 

Hild.  They  came  in  proud,  they  went  out  meek  enough. 
Give  me  but  time  and  I  will  tame  all  wolves 
From  Alps  to  Appenines. 

Enter  Page. 

Page.  More  ambassadors  await  without,   your  Holiness. 

Hild.  From  whence  ? 

Page.  Germany,  your  Holiness. 

Hild.  Ha,  ha,  now,  we  meet  another  matter. 

Pet.  Now  thou  growest  iron. 

Hild.  Yea,  then  I  gave  with  smiles  what  I  owned  not 
Now  here  with  sternness  I  would  hold  mine  own. 
There  is  no  Pope  while  there's  an  Emperor, 
'Tis  my  chief  creed.     Give  me  the  letter. 
i^Reads)  Ha,  what  be  this  ?     Refuses  to  retire 
The  German  abbot  he  made  without  my  leave, 
Tells  me  that  being  king  he  holds  in  fief 

All  power  of  benefice.     The  hound  !  the  hound  ! 
I'll  make  him  stoop.     I'll  crush  his  pride  out  yet. 
Yea,  more,  he  says  he's  coming  soon  to  Rome 
To  take  his  crown  of  Empery  at  my  hands. 
Then  craves  my  blessiiiig,  sent  him  with  all  speed, 
"  Your  filial  son."     A  filial  son,  indeed, 
A  son  of  Hell,  was  fittfer  sonship.     Peter, 
This  king  makes  me  a  devil. 

Pet.  Send  him  thy  curse,  thy  ban,  'twere  fitting  answer 
To  such  a  message. 

Hild.  Nay,  I  will  try  him  yet,  not  that  last  move, 
Till  lesser  fails.     Call  in  the  Cardinals. 


SC.*-I.]  HILDEBRAND.  1 39 

Cardinals  file  in^  Ambassadors  are  brought  in. 

Hild.  You  come  from  His  Majesty,  Henry  of  Germany." 

Amb.  We  do,  your  Holiness. 

Hild.  It  grieves  me  much  that  our  unfilial  son 
Should  keep  from  Holy  Church  those  ancient  powers 
Given  to  her  of  old  and  handed  down,     , 
Gifts  to  Peter. 

Amb.  What  be  these  powers,  your  Holiness  ? 

Hild.  Powers  of  right,  powers  of  gift,  powers  of  office, 
Powers  to  lose  and  bind,  lift  and  lower,  bless  and  ban. 

Amb.  Hath  she  not  yet  those  powers,  my  Lord  ? 

Hild.  Nay,  nay,  and  never  shall  until  she  may  ;lu 

Enforce  those  powers,  by  other  stronger  powers.  v 

Abbeys,  Bishoprics,  Priesthoods,  whose  are  these  j*^   4S  ' 
Peter's  or  Caesar's  ?  Gregory's  or  Henry's  ?  ;;<i-    ^  fe 

Ajnb.  The  king  saith  not,  my  lord.  ^  ^  '^^t 

mid.  Tell  Henry,  our  undutiful  son,  so  soon 
As  he  doth  show  his  feaity  to  the  Church, 
By  rendering  up  to  her  those  pristine  gifts 
Of  benifice,  and  giveth  to  her  hands, 
What  unto  her  belongs,  so  soon  will  she 
Grant  him  her  blessing.     Tell  him,  mighty  Peter, 
Christ's  Vicar  and  ambassador  of  God 
Speaketh  by  me,  the  seventh  Gregory, 
Calling  unto  him  to  do  my  will. 
Or  dread  my  curse. 

Amb.  Yea,  my  Lord. 

Hild.  Tell  him  that  He  who  makes  and  unmakes, 
Lifts  and  lowers,  thrones  and  dethrones. 
Speaks  by  me. 

[Exif  Ambassadors,  Cardinals  and  Peter. 

Page.  The  Countess  of  Canossa  awaits  without,  my  Lord. 

Ilild.  Show  her  within. 


130  ,  HUDERBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

Enter  Beatrice. 

llild.  My  gentle  Countess,  saintly  Beatrice, 
Welcome  to  my  first  royalty  of  Heaven. 
Thou  comest  to  me  as  cometh  the  evening  star 
After  the  heat  and  turmoil  of  the  day, 
Shedding  the  beauty  of  thy  womanliness 
On  my  rude  cares.     How  fares  Canossa  ? 

Beat.  O,  Hildebrand,  I  come  to  thee  no  star, 
But  rather  as  a  brook  to  some  great  river, 
I  flee  me  to  the  succor  of  thy  presence. 

Hild.  Doth  he  so  use  thee,  our  one  flower  of  women  ? 
The  brute,  the  beast,  hath  he  maltreated  thee  ? 

Beat.  Nay,  not  that  yet,  but  leagues  him,  I  much  fear. 
With  that  mad  King  of  Germany. 

Hild.  Henry,  agen  ! 
Wait  a  little  yet,  we'll  heal  that  ulcer. 

Beat.  You  know  poor  Bishop  Gudrun,  he  is  dead, 

Hild.  Nay,  when  died  he  ?     He  was  a  goodly  priest. 
But  scarce  a  zealous  pastor.     So  he's  gone  ? 

Beat.  When  I  would  come  to  thee  to  fill  his  place, 
Canossa,  with  a  loud  and  brutal  laugh. 
Says,  nay,  the  Emperor  must  fill  the  chair 
And  at  his  prayer  the  licentious  Prince  hath  sent 
One  of  his  courtiers,  some  rude,  worldly  man, 
To  fill  the  benefice.     He  laughs  at  thee. 
And  puts  thy  new  reforms  to  open  scorn. 

Hild.  Wait,  sweet  Beatrice,  water  not  thy  face 
And  weaken  not  my  heart  with  thy  sad  tears. 
Canossa  knoweth  not  he  hath  an  enemy 
More  deadly  than  he  fears,  who  is  a  devil. 
Did  I  but  let  him  Icose  and  he  would  sweep 
Earth  and  Italy  clear  of  such  Canossas. 

0  Beatrice,  this  is  a  world  of  woes, 
And  I  being  many  men  have  many  woes, 

1  climb  so  many  hills  my  feet  grow  weary  ; 


SC.   I.]  HILDEBRAND.  I3I 

Now,  I'm  a  king  and  fain  would  rule  this  earth, 
Now  am  a  saint  and  fain  would  purge  its  ills, 
Now  am  a  priest  and  fain  would  throttle  its  wills, 
Again  the  man  with  all  a  man's  desire 
To  feel  and  hate  and  love  as  other  men. 
O  Beatrice,  I  would  I  were  deep  heaven 
To  wear  so  pure  a  star  upon  my  breast. 
When  I  see  thee,  this  world  with  all  its  cares. 
Its  hard  ambitions,  hates  and  hellish  batdes. 
Doth  vanish  past,  like  day  at  evening's  hour, 
When  only  sweet  thoughts  stay.     Must  go  so  soon  ? 

Beat.  Yea,  My  Lord,  but  I  will  come  again. 

Enter  an  Abbot  afid  several  Monks  dragging  an 
old  man  with  a  long  beard ^  who  is  accused  of 
witchcraft.     The  Abbot  and  Monks  fall 
on  their  faces.     The  old  ma?t  stat/ds. 

mid.  Stand!  (They  all  stand  up  ttembling.)  Who  be 
this  ? 

Ah.  Most  Holy  Pope,  Vicar  of  Christ,  Lord  of  the 
Church,  Keeper  of  the  Keys  ; — 

Hild.  Nay.     Make  thy  speech  brief ! 

Ab.  Most  Holy, — that  is  to  say,  we  are  accursed. 

Hild.  Even  so.     Ye  look  it.     Proceed  ! 

Monks.  Yea  !  yea  !  um  !    um  ! 

Ab.  Yea,  Most  Holy,  we  be  much  accursed  by  reason  of 
yon  cursed — ( The  old  man  takes  out  some  tablets  and 
seatins^  himself  on  the  floor  proceeds  to  calculate  ) 

<  Ab.  Yon,  yon — 

Jifild.  Say  on,  Sirrah  !  Accursed  ?  hast  lost  thy  tongue  ? 
(Abbot  afid  Monks  all  groan.)  Speak  on  or  means 
shall  be  found  to  make  thee  I 

Ab.  Nay,  nay.  Most  Holy  !  He  be  cursing  us  now  wi' 
his  deviltries.  I  may  net  mention  his  name  because 
of  the  blight.  Wilt  thou  not  bless  me  so  that  I  may 
proceed  unharmed  ? 


132  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

Hild,  {Makes  the  sign  of  the  cross.)  Yea,  tis  done.  Pro- 
ceed ! 

Ab.  {Growing  bolder.)  Yon  cursed  dog  ot  a  sorcerer 
hath  bewitched  us  all. 

Monks.  Yea,  yea,  Most  Holy. 

Hild.  He  hath  then  but  little  to  do. 

Ab.  Nay,  Most  Holy,  he  hath  done  much. 

Hild.  (Ti^Wiz.)  Stand  up!  {the  wizard  remains  sitting, 
gazes  at  Hild.,  then  at  Monks,  then  returns  to  his  cal- 
culations. ) 

Hild.  Wilt  thou  stand  up?  {to  Monks)  Make  him  ! 

Ab.  and  Monks.  Nay,  nay,  he  be  making  devils  wheels 
at  us  now,  even  now  we  be  dead  men. 

{The  old  man  finishes  his  calculation,  then   rises  slowly  and 
approaches  Hild.)     Hast  thou  sent  for  me  ? 

Hild.  Who  art  thou  ? 

Wiz.  I  am  the  centre.  Macro,  aero,  Magister,  ha!  ha!  ha  ! 

Hild.  {To  Ab.)  What  hath  he  done? 

Ab.  Oh,  Oh,  Most  Holy,  everything. 

Hild.  Name  his  offence. 

Ab.  He  hath  lamed  Brother  Benedict,  rheumed  Brother 
Isaac,  physiced  Brother  Petrice,  hath  slain  Brothers 
Wildert,  Gebert  an'  Andrice,  hath  tied  us  all  up  by  the 
heels  to  the  devil,  an'  hath  bewitched  the  whole  con- 
vent. 

.     Hild.  {To  Wiz.)  Hast  done  this  ? 

^/>.  Hast  done  what  ?  mensa,  mensae,  mensae,  ha  !  ha ! 
ha  !  {sits  down  and  proceeds  to  make  angles  and  circles^ 

Ab.  He  be  ever  like  this.  Most  Holy,  as  thou  seest. 

Hild.  Will  he  not  understand  ?  I  would  know  his  man- 
ner of  thought. 

Ab.  It  is  by  reason  of  his  magic  and  his  great  age,  Most 
Holy. 


SC.  I.]  HILDEBRAND.  1 33 

Hild.  How  old  be  he  ? 

Ab.  Some  say  one  thousand,  some  five  hundred,,  but  the 
most  three  hundred  and  fifty  years,  Most  Holy. 

Hild.  Nay  !  How  do  you  converse  with  him  ? 

Ab.  We  hang  him  by  the  thumbs  till  he  answer  that  be 
one  way. 

Wiz.  {Shakes  his  fist  at  Ab.)  Macro,  aero,  sacro,  ha,  ha, 
ha. 

Hild.  This  man  be  mad. 

Wiz.  Yea,  all  mad,  mad,  prayers,  fasts,  prayers,  saints, 
tinkle,  tinkle,  all  mad,  yea,  they  are  all  mad,  aero, 
macro,  I  am  the  centre,  hear  me- 

Hild.  Didst   thou  bewitch   these  ?   {pointing  at  Abbot 

\and  Monks. 
Wiz.  Ha  !  ha  I     All  swine,  all  swine. 

Hild.  Dost  thou  hear  me  ? 

Wiz.  Ha,  ha,  three  fat,  three  lean,  one  ascragged,  anti- 
monium  a  portion,  nutgalls  two  portions,  soak  till  mid- 
night and  go  to  couch  with  much  fasting.  Wouldst 
thou  more  ? 

Ab.  Thou  seest,  Most  Holy,  he  hath  a  devil.  This  same 
did  slay  three  of  our  brothers  with  his  devil's  anti- 
monium  or  some  such  potion. 

Wiz.  They  did  desire  to  be  fat.  I  did  but  potion  them. 
'Twere  not  my  fault  that  they  died  of  over-feeding. 

Hild.  Antimonium  ?  Where  didst  thou  get  thy  use  for 
such  a  potion  ? 

Wtz.  By  watching  of  the  swine  at  their  feedmg.  Some 
of  this  did  by  chance  get  mixed  with  their  provender, 
and  those  that  did  eat  of  it  grew  quickly  corpulent, 
and  I, — thought  me — 

Hild.  'Twould  suit  the  monks  ? 

Wiz.  Yea,  but  they  overfed — 

Hild.  And  died  ? 


134  .  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

Wiz.  Yea. 

Htld.  But  these  others — they  accuse  thee  of  their  dis- 
orders. . 

l^tz.  (To  Monks.)  Feed  less,  drink  less,  toil  more, 
sleep  less.  Go  not  with  the  women,  an  your  curse  will 
leave  you,  ha,  ha. 

Ab.  Nay,  he  hath  a  devil.     We  be  church's  men. 

mid.  Ye  look  it,  what  else  doth  he  ? 

Ab.  He  maketh  magic.  He  hath  a  devil's  wheel  and  he 
hath  blasphetned  saying  he  knoweth  how  many  times 
the  spoke  of  a  wheel  goeth  to  make  the  rim,  thus  med- 
dling with  matters  abhorred.  More,  he  saith  the  world 
be  a  ball,an  floateth  on  nothing,  the  which  we  know  to  be 
a  foul  lie,  seeing  the  Fathers  have  taught  it  be  flat  and 
standing  on  the  foundations  with  Hell  beneath. 

Hi/d.  (ToV^iz.)  Be  this  true? 

Wiz.  Yea,  I  am  Magister,  know  all,  cure  all. 

Hild.  Canst  thou  cure  disease  ? 

Wiz.  What  \Couldst  thou  have  ?  Hast  thou  a  flux,  a 
frenzy,  an  evil  eye,  a  gnawing  of  the  tooth,  a  rheum,  a 
discord,  a  gravel,  a  dysentry,  a  dropsy,  a  nightmare,  an 
I  can  cure  thee  ?  'i'he  heart  of  a  hen,  the  eye  of  a 
dragon,  the  tooth  of  a  snake,  the  nose  of  a  beetle 
caught  twixt  dusk  and  sunrise,  all  be  a  preventative 
agenst  mala,  medicanta.  Yea,  for  all  frenzies,  camel's 
brain  an  gall,  rennet  of  seal,  spittle  of  crocodile,  an 
blood  of  turtle,  taken  with  much  prayer  be  certain 
remedies. 

Hild.  Indeed,  of  a  verity,  man  thou  art  much  accursed 
with  knowledge. 

Wiz.  Ha,  ha.     Wouldst  try  me  ? 

Hild.  Nay,  I  be  well,  and  thou  sayest  this  earth  be  a 
sphere  ? 

Wiz.  Yea,  tis  truth.     See  here. 


SC.  I.]  HILDEHRAND.  I35 

Hild.  And  it  floateth  on  nothing  ? 

Wiz.  Yea,  yea,  wouldst  thou  not  learn  ?  Wouldst  thou 
not  listen  ? 

Hild.  Ha. 

Ab.  Thou  seest  he  hath  a  devil.  He  honoureth  not 
even  thee,  Most  Holy. 

Wiz.  {To  Hild.)  Wilt  thou  not  listen?  Art  thou  also 
as  these  fools  ?  An  age  of  fools  !  An  age  of  fools  ! 
Macro,  macro,  I  am  the  centre.  [Falls  to  calculating 
anew.) 

Hild.  Peace,  peace,  Sirrah,  I  would  hear  thee  agen  on 
this  strange  matter.  Thou  wilt  stay  here.  {To  the 
Ab.  and  Monks.)  And  ye  back  to  your  mon- 
astry,  and  do  as  he  saith,  feed  less,  drink  less,  toil 
more,  sleep  less,  and  go  not  with  the  women,  and  I 
will  remove  your  curse.     Now  begone  ! 

Ab.  and  Monks.  {Bowing  out.)  O  holy  father,  we  be 
much  accursed  !  '—    ' 

Wiz.  {Shakes  his  fist  at  them.)  Aero,  macro.  {They 
flee  i?i  great  terror.) 

Enter  Peter. 

Pet.  More  woes,  more  woes,  more  woes,  another  woman! 

{Enter  Page.)  A  strange  woman  would  see  your  Holiness. 

{Enter  Catherine  wrapt  in  a   cloak.     She   advances  and 

throws  the  cloak  off. 

Hild.  Catherine  ! 

Cath.  Hildebrand  I 

Hild.  'Tis  thou  ! 

Cath.  Yea,  my  Lord.     Thy  wife  !    {Kneeling  at  his  feet.) 
O,  holy  Father,  by  all  the  love  that  once 
United  our  two  hearts,  I  plead  with  thee, 
Have  mercy  on  the  daughter  of  thy  love. 

Hild.  My  daughter  !  nay,  Woman,  not  so,  not  so  ! 
Cath.  Yea,  I  have  sought  thee  out  these  many  years, 


136   ^  ,  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

Did  track  thee  to  thy  monastry  then  here. 
O  save  thy  daughter,  mighty  Hildebrand. 

Hild.  {Turns  and  covers  himself  with  his  cloak.) 

0  Woman,  Woman,  I  know  thee  not.     Away  ! 

1  know  not  wife  save  only  Holy  Church. 

Pet.  Away  !  away  !  cursed  Woman,  away  ! 
Presume  not  on  Christ's  Vicar,  the  great  Pope, 
The  father  of  his  people  and  the  world. 

Cath.  O  me  !  accursed  me  !  I  come  not  here 
To  curse  thee,  nor  to  bless,  nor  yet  presume 
To  dare  polute  thy  state  by  name  of  husband. 
'Tis  only  but  a  common,  human  word 
Belonging  to  the  poor  ones  of  this  world  : — 
But  to  beseech  the  Holy  Pope  of  Rome 
To  cover  with  corner  of  his  mercy's  mantle  /  v 

The  daughter  of  his  loins.  v>r 

Hild.  O,  Peter,  Peter,  take  this  woman  away.  ,  V 

Pet.  Begone  Woman.    Thou  art  sacreligious. 

Calk.  Nay,  spurn  me  not,  she  is  my  only  daughter, 
I  pray  thee  help  her,  tis  a  little  thing, 
For  thee  who  hath  so  much  of  worldly  power. 
To  lift  thy  hand  and  by  a  single  word 
Restore  her  happiness. 

Hild.  O  Woman,  what  would'st  thou  ask  ? 

Cath.  She  is  our  daughter,  awful  Hildebrand, 
Married  short  time  unto  that  goodly  priest 
Gerbhert,  of  St.  Amercia,  at  Milan. 

Hild.  O,  God  !  O,  God  ! 

Cath.  He  is  a  holy  clerk,  well  bred  in  orders, 
Of  good  repute  among  his  loving  people. 
Who  look  up  to  him  as  their  Father  in  God, 
Dwelling  among  them  as  the  beckoning  hand 
Leading  to  heaven. 

Hild.  O,  God  !  O,  merciful  God  ! 


SC.    I.].  HILDEBRAND.  I37 

Cath.  They  have  a  little  babe,  a  sweet,  wee  mite 
Just  come  from  Heaven. 

Pet.  Hence,    Scorpion,  know   ye    not   this  is  the  Holy 

[Father  ? 

Cath.  Remove   this   curse,   those   terrible   monks   have 
Upon  his  priesthood.  ^  _   .,    [placed. 

Hild.  O  Woman,  I  cannot,  I  cannot. 

Cath.  By  all  our  former  love  I     They  cannot  part ! 
He  holds  her  as  the  apple  of  his  eye. 
She  sees  in  him  the  t^an  that  God  hath  given.  ;  '  I, 

Remove  this  awful  curse.  '*,  vl 

Hild.  Woman,  thou  speakest  to  a  columned  stone,  '   .  , 

I  am  a  marble.     If  I  have  a  heart,                      .,  >  f 

Thou'lt  hear  it  beating,  rock  within  this  rock,  "           .'  ^  ,    • 

rhou  art  a  sea  that  beatest  my  sides  in  vain.  /';  ' 

Cath.  Do  I  hear  thee  aright?     Thou  art  adamant  ' 

Unto  this  piteous  pleading  of  my  heart,  •    ?;  '  !. 

Thou  sendest  thine  only  daughter,  our  sweet  child,      ;^  '7'i- 
Out  into  defenceless  misery,  breakest  her  heart. 
Unnatural,  unnatural,  unnatural ! 

It  seems  but  yesternight  they  said  good-bye,  v^  ■. ; 

And  now  she  sits  and  rocks  her  child  and  saith 
Over  and  over  agen  its  father's  name. 

Pet.  Go,  Woman,  he  is  dead  to  thee  and  thine. 

Hast  thou  no  pity  ?     Hast  thou  not  one  sigh 
For  this  thy  work  ? 

(HiLDEBRAND  stauds  sikntly  with  his  back  to  her^f  his  cloak 
wrapt  about  his  face,) 

Cath.  Hast  thou  no  pity  ?     By  all  our  past,  one  word. 
One  parting  word. 

Pet.  Thou  speakest  to  a  stone.     Go  ! 

Cath.  (Goes  out  wringing  her  hands.) 
O,  Agony,  O  Misery,  Blackness,  Hell, 
There's  no  hope  now. 


138  ^^''V.'-^.V'rJ  ■-.i-'J.---     HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

SCENE  II. — T/ie  German  Court,   a   Room   in   the   Castle. 
^  -:.  ^f^fg^  fj^g  Queen  and  an  Attendant.         V  " 

Att.  This  way,  Your  Majesty.  .      V   ^  ■■■■■  -    •  ^' ^ 

Queen.  You  speak  me,  majesty.    I  am  no  Queen,     ,-vS  ,'. 
The  lowest  woman  in  this  mighty  reahn,  --.-::{!: :!;.•' '.^: 

Reigning  in  some  humble  herdsman's  heart, 
Might  top  my  queenship.     O  Henry,  Henry,  -   -  r: 

What  is  there  in  my  face,  my  form,  my  spirit. 
That  you  should  scorn  me  ?     Hatli  my  essence  changed, 
Since  by  the  holy  altar  facing  Heaven  ;} 

We  plighted  wedding  troth  ;   to  less  and  less,      ^  •:y,-:^,,.^:   -k; 
That  you  should  hate  me?     ,    ;  • 

{Ejtter  Bishop  of  Ba^nbiirg.)  My  Lord  Bishop  !  {kneels.) 

Bam.   {Lifting  her ^  Nay,  humble  not  thy  lonely  majesty, 
Thy  stately  womanliness,  most  noble  Maigaretj 
By  such  poor  acts.  ■.       -^  i    .       >  ;  :::    ', 

Queen.     O,  Bamburg,  be  my  angel,  my  good  guide,  ■  C 

Leading  me  by  roads  to  Henry's  favour.  ,  'I 

Bring  back  his  heart  to  its  one-time  allegiance,      ■        :  -• 

And  make  earth's  springtime  laugh  for  me  once  more,  "j 

Bam.  Nought  in  all  my  bishopric  hath  grieved  me 
Like  this  strange  act  of  Henry's.     I  have  spoke  him  :  • 

Happily  in  all  save  only  this,     v  ;  v  ^  / 

Patience,  my  Lady,  patience,  look  to  Heaven.      "  *'* 

Perchance  some  day  he'll  know  thy  noble  heart. 

Queen.  O,  Bamburg,  as  the  queen  of  this  great  realm, 
More  sacred,  as  the  mother  of  his  child, 
I  beg  you  get  me  audience.     Did  I  plead,  .  :." 

His  heart  might  soften.  ,  ..    .w,   .       . 

Bam.  Madam,  thy  wishes  are  to  me  commands, 
I  fear  me  much  the  issue  in  his  mood, 
But  be  my  head  the  penalty,  I  will  bring 
You  to  him.  \Exit  both. 

[  Curtain. 


SC  III.]  HILDEBRAND.  ^  I39 

SCENE  III.  —A /I  Audience  Room  in  the   Castle.     Enter 
Attendant.     Enter  Henry  /;/  haste^  with  Gilbert 

a  Lord.  ;.       -v    i 

Hen.  Now  by  my  crown,  I'll  harry  those  villians  out.      ' 
{To  the  Pas;e.)  Quick,  wine  !  ito  Gilbert)  You  say  this  news 
This  Saxon  Rodulph,  would  pluck  Henry  down,     [be  true. 
And  wear  his  Empery.     Ha,  this  likes  me  well  ! 

Gil.  'Tis  said,  Your  Majesty,  the  Saxon  towns  "..  , 
Have  all  revolted.     ,            ~                    . 

Hen.  And  Rudolph  leads  them  !  '■-'■-^''■.^^■'^-  ']■■'■-  - av 

Enter  YiXSiY^ij'RG.         ,      .  >  '"  "  • 

Well,  Hamburg,  have  you  heard  the  latest  news?  ;  /i -y 
The  North's  revolted.  Rodulph  heads  the  Saxons  .  .  ,  / 
To  conquer  Germany  and  take  my  crown,  , .      ,^  , 

And  on  it  all,  this  bold,  insulting  letter,  :^:;:-\^^'''/\''""''fi'.\' 
Reads  me  a  lesson  from  His  Holiness,  ^'     ''^^  ' 

Yon  arrogant  priest,  the  scheming  Pope  of  Rome.    ' \'    ^X 

Bam.   Henry,  as  your  father's  oldest  friend,  ''■.,' 

As  your  m4st  faithful  subject  I  would  plead, 
Be  nut  o'er  hasty  in  this  sudden  business.        ^      ';  *     '  ' 

Hen.   Hamburg,  I  am  sick  of  being  a  child,  ';'  '  ^ 

You  drive  me  mad  by  your  pacific  measures.  ;^^ 

While  you  are  dallying,  they  will  ride  me  down  '  '  -i  v 
With  s(]uadrons  and  with  curses.  Nay,  no  more  !  "  '  ;, 
I'll  ride  me  north  and  show  mine  enemies  *  'J  V 
I'll  bring  yon  Rodulph's  head  upon  a  pike-pole.      '  '  v'  ?'    ' 

Bam.  What  of  this  Roman  message  ?  /    V' a«> 

Hen.  Call  in  the  messengers.     {Entef  a  Cardinal  and  a 
{To  Antbs.)  Go  you  to  Rome  ?  [Roman  bishop.) 

Card.  Yea,  Your  Majesty. 

Hen.  Go,  tell  your  master,  if  he  be  the  Pope 
That  I  a'lr  Emperor,  who  can  lift  him  down.   • 
Tell  him,  in  spiritual  matters,  Henry  bows 
To  his  opinion,  in  matters  temporal,  never  ! 
This  is  my  answer,  safe  speed  you  Romewards. 

[Exit  Ambassadors. 


I40  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  II. 

Bam    Your  Majesty,  before  you  go  will  see 
But  one  more  suppliant. 

lien.  Nay,  Hamburg,  nay  not  now,  I'm  hurried. 

Batii.  By  my  love,  I  beseech  you ! 

He7i.  Is  it  so  urgent  ?  Well,  be  hasty  Bamburg. 
My  troops  await  me,  and  my  sword-arm  aches 
To  hack  yon  Rodulph. 
{Enter  Queen  veiled.)     Who  be  this  ? 

Bam.  One  who  deserves  your  patience  and  your  love. 
If  you  love  aught  on  earth,  proud  Henry. 
Go  you  not  forth  to  battle  with  your  foes 
Till  you  have  made  your  spirit's  peace  with  her. 
Your  realm's  Queen,  the  mother  of  your  child. 

Hen.  Bamburg,  Bamburg,  you  trifle  with  my  kindness. 
This  goes  too  far,  know  you  that  I  am  King  ! 
One  word  and  I  will  hale  you  to  a  dungeon 
For  this  insult. 

Queen.  Henry,  my  Lord,  one  word  before  ygu  go.     •  :,:* 
What  have  I  done  to  gather  all  this  hate  ?  ''" 

Bam.  Your  Majesty  may  sever  my  poor  body, 
Mend  you  your  love.     Kill  me,  Henry,  but 
Murder  not  by  scorn,  the  noblest  love 
That  soul  hath  nourished.     By  these  wintry  hairs, 
Though  thou  dost  slay  me,  I  will  tell  thee  true 
By  this  one  act  thou  dost  unking  thyself. 

Hen.  No  more,  by  heaven,  no  more,  I  know  her  not. 
When  will  my  subjects  treat  me  less  the  child  ? 
I  am  no  ward  now,  and  I  ever  hated 
This  foolish,  enforced  marriage.     Let  her  Majesty 
Get  to  some  retirement.     She  demeans 
Herself  by  these  forced  meetings.  {^Exit. 

Queen.  O  Bamburg,  I  have  lowered  my  queenliness 
And  cheapened  my  womanhood.     I  will  no  more. 
Take  me  away. 

[Cur/ain. 


SC.  IV.l  HILDEBRAND.      ^  ,  ^        I4I 

SCENE  IV. — A  monastery  near  Mi/an.  Night.  Enter  two 
monks,  Brun,  a  fat  little  monk,  and  Wast,  a  tall,  lean 
one,  with  an  extremely  ugly  face. 

Brun.  How  he  doth  take  on,  this  new  Friar  Gerbhert. 
I  had  not  thought  a  man  would  lose  his  appetite  for  any 
woman. 

,  Wast.  Ah,  Brun,  you  gluttonous  men  know  not  of  love. 
Such  dangerous  passions  are  beyond  thy  ken,  lacking 
the  attractive,  the  magnetic,  you  descend  to  lower  plea- 
sures. Now  look  on  me  a  victim  to  woman's  fancy. 
Within  those  walls  I  (ind  a  haven  from  woman's  im- 
portunities. 

Brun.  Verily,  Brother,  tl  ou  must  have  slain  hearts. 

Wast.  It  was  my  daily  sorrow,  so  many  beauties  sought 
me.  I  could  not  walk  the  streets,  but  I  were  pestered. 
It  did  sorrow  me  much,  I  could  not  pity  all  the  pas- 
sions I  awoke,  so  fled  me  here,  sacrificing  my  pros- 
pects, my  youth,  my  person,  rather  than  light  fires  1 
could  not  quench.  {Eyeing  himself  in  a  metal  hand- 
mirror.)  Alas,  alas,  Brun,  my  beauty  falleth  off  sadly 
of  late.  ;,    ^ 

Brun.  Yea,  thou  hast  a  haggard  cast  to  thy  looks.  It 
wonders  me  much  where  all  thy  provender  goeth,  it 
doth  thee  so  little  service. 

Wast.  Ah,  Brun,  Brun,  so  many  broken  hearts,  so  many 
tender  reminiscences.  *But  thou  canst  not  touch  my 
feelings.  Yea,  Brun,  didst  thou  but  know  the  former 
dignity,  the  port,  the  carriage  of  my  person  ;  the  flash, 
the  majesty  of  my  eye  ;  the  symmetry,  the  moulding  of 
my  form  ;   thou  wouldst  but  marvel  at  this  ruin  I  am. 

Brun.  I  doubt  it  not  old  Sucker,  but  let  not  thy  former 
beauty  fret  thy  present  comliness  out  o'  countenance. 

Wast.  Nay  Brother,  I  will  so  endeavor,  but  I  am  ever  on 
the  tremble  lest  some  one  of  those  former  victims,  in 
cruel  desperation  maddened,  may  find  me  here  and 


142  y.  HILDEBR^ND.       '  ,  TaCT  II. 

seize  my  person.     Brun,  wilt  thou  protect  me  in  such 
s/'        extremity,  wilt  thou,  Brother ? 

Brun.  Yea,  that  I  will,  thou  Wreck  of  former  perfection. 
V  If  any  misguided  person  of  that  unfortunate  sex  be  so 

seized  by  distraction  as  to  make  formidable  attack  upon 
thy  classic  person,  she  doth  so  on  her  peril,  I  promise 
thee,  old  much-afflicted,  my  hand  upon  it.  Be  the 
bottle  finished?     {A  knocking  is  heard  without.^ 

Wast.  What  be  that  sound  ?  'Tis  she,  'tis  she,  at  last  ! 
'■  ;  V  O  me,  O  me,  what  will  I  do  ?  {Gets  behind  Brun.) 
M?  V,         Brun!  Brother!  wilt  thou  protect  me  ? 

Brun.  Confusion  take  thee.  Wast,  now  be  a  man. 

y  Wast.  Yea,  yea,  I  be  a  man,  that  be  my  sorrow,  ah,  oh, 

,        what  sh — all  I  do  ?     {Tries  to  hide  himself  in  his  cowl.) 

;^>  I'  Enter  other  monks  in  great  confusion,      '  ";    , 


,-i.' 


All.  What  be  that  noise?  what  be  th — at  no — ise? 

One  M.  {Peers  through  the  wicket  and  starts  back  in  hor- 
ror.)    'Tis  a — oh  blessed  Peter,  'lis  a  woman  ! 

All.  What  shall  we  do  ?  O  blessed  Peter  !  what  shall  we 

Wast.  I  am  undone,  undone,  my  fatal  beauty  assails  me 
even  here.      -    '  r  v" 

Brun.  Wast,  quit  thy  folly,  go  close  to  the  gate  and  ques- 
tion her  wants. 

'■■''  '^ '  '■■- 
Wast.  Not  me,  not  me,  not  for  all  heaven's  riches  ? 

All  Afs.  Nay,  nay,  let   her   not  in.   {knocking  continues .) 

Let   us    pray,    Brothers,    let    us    pray.       {All    huddle 
together. ) 

Brun.  Then  if  ye  will  not,  then  I   must  ere  the  Abbot 
comes. 

Monks  fleeing.  Nay,  nay,  let  her  not  in,  a   woman,  a  wo- 
man, a  woman  !  [Enter  Abbot. 


^':'V' 


sc.  IV.]    ;^^  hildebrandJ^         .'    '  '     V     143 


Abb.  Stop,  Fools !  (All  stop.)  Be  it  the  Devil  at  your 
heels,  ye  flee  so  quickly?  ^   ^ . 

All  M^s.  A  woman^  a  woman  !     {Exit mofiks.)  ■        ;- 

Abb.  (7I?Brun.)  Open  the  gate.     (Brun  opens  gate. —  . 
Enter  Margaret,  worn  by  illness  and  starvation.)        - 

Abb.  Woman,  what  want  you  here  ?  ^    -   ^^^^^^^-^^^^^^^ .        • 

Marg.  I  want  my  husband.  {At  the  back  of  the  stage^  in 
a  dimly-lit  cell.,  behind  a  grating,  Gerbhert  is  seen 
kneeling,  he  rises,  at  sound  of  Margaret's  voice,  a 
Monk  holds  a  crucifix  before  him  and  he  sinks  back.) 

Abb.  Whom  do  you  call  by  so  profane  a  title  within 
these  holy  walls  ?  i^    v 

.  Marg.  My  husband,  Gerbhert,  vicar  at  Milan.'     O  let  me 

see  him,  our  little  one  is  dying.     Where  doth  he  linger 

T      aliened  from   his  home?     (Gerbhert  comes  forward 

again,  the  Monk  lifts  the   crucifix   and  he  goes   back 

:V:       wringing  his  hands.)  >^.-      -       ,  ;•     ,r  •>       , 

Abb.  This  is  his  home,  he  knows  no  wife  nor  children, 
You  must  go  hertce.  -r-  -      •  :; 

Mar^.  If  I  called  out  unto  these  barren  walls       ^  '' /     - 
And  had  they  but  a  heart  to  hear  my  prayer,  >:V 

Beneath  their  stony  hardness  they  would  open  J' 

To  let  me  see  him.  :     ■ 

Abb.  You  must  go  forth,  you  blaspheme  these  pure  pre- 
Woman,  go.  *      [cincts. 

Marg,  Nay,  drive  me  not  forth,  O  holy  Abbot, 
By  all  you  love,  revere  and  hope  on  earth, 
Drive  me  not  forth,  tear  down  this  hideous  wall 
That  hides  me  from  my  husband,  let  him  know, 
'Tis  only  for  a  little,  little  while,  ^-'^  - 

Did  he  but  know  our  little  one  was  ill,         ^.,^  • 
He'd  hasten  in  the  first  impulse  of  sorrow. 
At  its  slight  cry,  he'd  be  all  shook  with  pity. 
And  now  its  dying.     Gerbhert !  Gerbhert !  come  ! 
Where  are  you  Gerbhert  ? 


A''' 


144  .        ;    HILDEBRAND.       '^^^^^^^v   i^  [ ACT  II. 

-^M.  You  must  go  hence,  or  I  will  force  you  hence. 

Marg.  I  have  no  soul  to  curse  you,  your  own  soul 
Be  its  own  Hell  for  this  unnaturalness.  .        \^Goes  out. 

I  come,  my  fatherless  one,  to  die  with  thee. 
To  die  with  thee. 

(Gerbkert  pounds /or f/i.)      ,     . 

Ger^.  Margaret !  (s/iakes  the  grating.)  Margaret  !  {The 
Monk  raises  the  crucifix,  and  Gerbhert  folloivs  it  slowly 
out.)  ..    ,,    ,,^^.^._^.,.... ._.,.., 

1     ;         u  \  Curtain. 


SCENE  V. — {Audience  room  in  the  Papal  palace.     Enter 
HiLDEBRAND  Wearing  his  purple  robe  of  state  and  with 
.      ///w  Peter  Damiani.     Enter  a  page.)         ,,-.       .., 

Pa^e.  An  Ambassador  waits  without,  your  Holiness. 

J/ild.  From  whence  ?     Germany?      ''^ :..'f'yV:'''[^'-^''^'-^'i^f.'-'\. 

■:    Page.  Yea,  my  Lord.  '  ■■ 

Hild.  Ha,  now,  the  tide  went  out,  the  tide  comes  in. 
'Tis  but  the  spray  to  mine  own  thunders.  Now,  we'll 
hear  his  answer  to  the  Papal  Curse. 

Pet.  VViit  thou  receive  a  message  from  one  accursed? 
He  is  no  king,  no  ruler  any  more.  This  is  no  em- 
bassy. 

Hild.  Perchance,  it  may  be  prayer  for  pardon.  Henry 
knoweth  by  this  the  power  of  Hildebrand. 

Pa^e.  My  Lord,  it  be  but  a  rude  petitioner  hath  come. 
He  tells  no  beads,  nor  maketh  any  prayers, 
But  rather  stamps  an' mutters,  raves  an' swears, 
And  sendeth  Rome  an'  all  her  cardinals  .,!  ■ 

To  Hell  twice  every  minute.         .       .  1     1    »  ^.  ,c  1  is-tfni^-i'i^ 

Pet.  Hale  him  to  prison,  the  loud,  biasphemihg  hound, ; : 
The  damp  of  some  rock  cell  would  bring  him  round      '     ' ' 
To  proper  reverence  for  thy  holy  office. 
He  may  intend  a  murder  on  thy  person,  .    ' 

Let  him  not  in.  -  . 


..i'>: 


SC.    v.]  HILDEBRAND.  V     \-  MS 

Ilild.  Nay,  but  I  will.     Like  master,  like. his  dog, 
I  fain  would  see  the  issue  of  this  cursing. 
Yea,  I  would  see  this  German  foam  at  mouth, 
Fear  not,  I'll  match  him,  call  the  Cardinals  in. 

(Exit  Page.     Enter  Cardinals,  who  stand  behind  the  Pope.) 

{Enter  the  pa^e^jolloiued  by  the   German  Ambassador^  who 
remains  standing.)  *  ^' 

Hild.  {To  Cardinals.)     On  your  lives  keep  peace  what- 
ever he  doth  do.     Leave  him  to  me.     ( To  the  Ambas- 

■■■:,;,-,   Sador.)        Kneel!      •:**-;  ^'::-*^ '--■''-' .^^v.^--    ■:•:■■■■  ^  y  *.■./ <.^  ■■  ..^r.y:..^:,  _ 

Amb.  Nay,  I'll  not  kneel  to  thee  or  other  man  ^^J 

Till  I  have  said  my  message.  :     v 

A  Card.  Kneel,  impious  Man,  'tis  the  Lord  Pope. 

Pet.  Hale  him  out,  German  Dog,  Blasphemer,     , *  y 
He  hath  insulted  the  Holy  Father. 

Amb.  (Draws.)  Come  on  ye  cowardly  Monks,  I  scorn  ye 
Were  he  a  king  I'd  bow  my  knee  to  him,  [all, 

An  Emperor,  an'  I  might  buss  his  hand, 
But  only  Pope,  why  popes  have  bribed  me  vain  ^  *^'   '^  ■"'  5. 
To  slay  your  betters. 

Hild.  Silence  :  am  I  Pope  indeed,  why  blame  this  man. 
When  ye,  obedient,  insult  me  with  your  clamors. 

{To  the  Amb.)     Hail  you  from  Germany? 

Afnb.  I  do,  proud  Priest,  my  name  is  Wolf  of  Bamburg, 
Cradled  in  a  nest  that  ne'er  knew  fear. 
Bred  of  a  breed  that  hath  a  joy  of  killing. 
'Tis  not  a  monk  would  make  me  tremble  here. 
My  time  is  short,  I  would  repeat  my  message. 

Hiid.  What  be  thy  message  ? 

Amb.  'Tis  to  thee,  proud  Priest,  an'  it  doth  come  from 
Henry. 

Hild.  Speak  ! 

Amb.  Henry  of  Germany,  whom  in  thine  insolence, 


146  HILDEBRAND*   .  f'    w  [aCT  II. 

Thou  cursedst  with  thy  foulest  blasphemies, 

Sendeth  me,  Wolf  of  Bamburg,  unto  thee, 

To  hurl  thine  arrop;ant  curses  in  thy  face, 

And  tell  thee  thou  art  no  pope  but  a  damned  priest, 

Who  stolest  thy  popedom. 

/v.  Hale  him  out,  tear  him  to  pieces  :  (A  great  clamor 
rises.     The  Cardinals  would  attack  him.) 

Hild.  Silence  !  on  your  lives  !  This  man  is  mjne  !  {To 
'        Wolf)     Speak  on!  "^" 

Amb.  He  further  saith  to  thee,  thou  bastard  Pope, 
As  Emperor  of  Rome,  come  down,  come  down  ! 
And  leave  that  chair  thou  foully  hast  usurped, 
And  I  his  servant,  say  to  thee,  come  down  ! 

.     Ail  Cards.  Devil  !    German   Dog  !    Tear  him  to  pieces  ! 
{All  rush  fof  ivard. ) 

Hild.  {Tears  off  hts  robe  and throzvs  tt over  the  Ambassa- 
Back  !  or  fear  my  curse  !  Who  strikes  at  that  [dor.) 
Strikes  me ! 

All.  Nay,  this  is  a  devil.  '  '    ' 

Hild.  Were  he  Satan  himself,  beneath  that  robe  he  were 
As  sacred  as  God's  holiest  angel ! 
(To  Amb.)  Go  Man  and  tell  thy  master,  who  is  no  king, 
That  Gregory  hath  one  single  word  for  him,  'f 

And  that  is  pity.     Let  him  ask  his  God        ■  vj  <i?     -  .;r^\  '    ■ 
To  pardon  him  as  I  do  pardon  him.       -     ^       -   ,     ,     /    ^ 
I  lay  no  curse  upon  the  innocent.  >; ^v/    '  '  .r  ;  ^:' V,?f 

When  he  comes  penitent  to  me  in  tears  a'I  3  1:^^  ■  -r  :'  ^^^^^^^^ 
I  will  receive  him.     Go!     {Exit  Amb.) 
{To  Cardinal?.)  Have  ye  no  reverence  for  Gregory  that, 
Ye  should  revile  revilings  in  this  house  ? 
God's  ministers  should  ever  be  men  of  peace, 
And  not  a  maddened  rabble.     As  our  Lord, 
In  that  last  season  of  his  great  martyrdom, 
Bade  holy  Peter  sheathe  the  angry  sword. 
So  I  rebuke  ye.     Had  he  s'ain  me  here. 
You'd  not  have  touched  him  !  \^Exit  Cardinals. 


SC.  V.l  HILDEBRAND.  j  -^147 

J^e^.  Hildebrand,  sometimes  it  thinketh  me       .  .'  X 

Thou  hast  a  magic,  thou  art  the  strangest  Pope  .    . . 

Yet  seen  in  Rome.     That  man,  who  came  blaspheming, i-^?;' 
Went  out  your  slave.  ■  >  ^  * 

///*/</.  Ah,  Peter,  know,  we  must  meet  fools  with  guile. 
'Tis  better  to  be  subtle  than  be  strong. 
I  sometimes  dream  the  greatest  innocence 
Is  but  the  mantle  to  the  deepest  guile,  ■  •    .      ;• ,,     '^ 

And  men  but  stab  the  deeper  when  they  smile.  ■' 

;■._/.■:■■;,    „  ;■  ,  ■     '■■  '■  ■:■.''■■■  ■■'■  \i-'  ■'■''    ■  -,■  \Curfain. 

-■-'  .''.  ■  ','  ■  ',   -'  '«'  ^^^^_„^.^__^^^_^^_^.^  "     ' 

-v'i:  ■■  - '    •■  /;.'.'■'  '■  '■:'■'.-    ACT  III.  :.i,4,Kr  c|?r ■^' !;;#:| 

SCENE  I. — {A  deserted  ca7np.)     Enter  Henry  alone,     j; 

Hen.  What  is  a  king's  weak  royalty  to  this  Power 
That  lifts  the  crowns  from  kings  and  plucks  them  down     '  ,' 
From  earth-built  majesties  ?     I  yesterday  ''     -  . 

Who  wore  a  crown  and  called  me  Emperor        '?f  t 
To  these  dominions,  held  a  people's  fear, 
To  bind  or  loose  betwixt  my  hollow  hands. 
Made  and  unmade,  held  life  and  death  in  fee, 
Made  dukedoms  tremble  at  my  royal  coming. 
And  at  my  beck  squadroned  the  earth  with  armies. 
Am  at  his  word  a  lonely,  outcast  man, 
A  stranger  to  the  lordships  of  command, 
Holding  less  power  than  doth  my  meanest  subject. 
Then  did  all  eyes  but  follow  at  my  glance. 
All  hands  lift  to  the  twitching  of  my  thumb. 
Did  I  but  hate,  a  thousand  scabbards  clanged 
To  do  me  vengeance.     Had  I  a  single  longing,  4: 
A  myriad  hearts  trembled  to  beat  my  bidding.       ' 
But  now  I  am  so  mean  earth's  very  slaves 
Might  pass  me  by,  nor  think  to  do  me  reverence. 
What  is  this  ore  man's  Power,  this  mighty  Will, 
"I'hat  lifts  its  hand,  saith  suddenly  yea  or  nay, 
And  peoples  forget  their  duty  ta  their  lords, 


i-lxM-. 


,,"V*',.>;^'; 


148-  HUDERBRAND.  [aCT  III. 

And  nobles  forfeit  reverence  for  their  kings 

And  all  of  royalty's  golden  splendor  is  wrecked 

And  shattered  like  a  rainbow  in  a  storm  ! 

O  Gregory,  O  Gregory,  thou  awful  man,  .  ;    7  / 

Didst  thou  but  speak  I  might  become  a  clod. 

Or  weed  or  senseless  turf  beneath  thy  feet. 

Enter  the  Bishop  of  Ba?nburg  and  a  noble. 

Hen.  Come  now  and  strip  me,  let  my  very  life 
But  follow  my  royalty.  ■  '    •    '^^''^ 

Bam.  O,  my  poor  Liege  !  -  v^.^^  .  '  : 

Lord.  Yea,  they  have  left  him  lone  enough  indeed. 
Damn  this  Pope's  cursing. 

Hen.  Why  call  me  Liege  ?  The  king  hath  gone,  my  Lord. 
He  went  out  yesterday  when  Gregory's  curse         ^^ 
Filled  all  this  precinct.     I  am  only  Henry,  ''v 

A  leprous,  palsied,  outcast,  damned  man. 
Where  are  my  servants  ?     Have  they  fled  me  too  ? 

Bam.  They  have,  ray  Liege  ! 

Hen.  Gregory  thou  mighty  monster,  what  art  thou  ? 
Thou  art  not  God,  for  God  at  least  is  kind. 
Thou  art  not  nature,  its  workings  are  too  slow 
For  such  a  sudden  miracle.     Why  dost  thou  not 
Take  even  my  sight  and  hearing  ?     It  'mazes  me 
Those  be  not  fled.     Yea,  even  my  Taste  and  Smell, 
What  blasphemous  Ministers  these  that  do  my  bidding 
Against  thy  mighty  word.     Take  all,  take  all, 
And  let  me  die. 

Bam.  Sire,  lose  not  your  courage.     Even  yet, 
A  few  of  us  for  love  of  Heaven  and  thee, 
Defy  this  haughty  prelate.     Shake  at  Rome 
Defiance  of  her  curses.     Though  a  million  curs. 
With  tail  twixt  legs  flee  at  a  bit  of  writing, 
Forget  that  they  are  men  because  one  man. 
Who  thinks  him  God,  would  shake  with  his  poor  thunders 
The  cowards  of  Europe  ;  know  that  there  be  yet 


-riJ,*  *. 


ji-i 


SCI.]        ,    .•  '        .       HILDEBRAND.  V  149 

ft'?      A  few  hearts  left  thee.     Gregory  takes  thy  crown,    \    •*  \y  . 
He  hatb  not  got  thy  manhood,  that  obeys  i  ' -•*/  *^ 

The  laws  of  thine  own  nature.     Show  this  priest,     ;Jy:;f;/i' I 
This  blasphemous  usurper  of  our  humanities,  ''),:".;y'^-;:i{;^'> 

That  he  may  strip  the  moss  but  leave  the  tree        .    <y.  j\ 
Of  all  thy  kingship  standing.  ,       r^^        ^5 

;  V       Lord.,  Yea,  my  Liege,  some  swords  be  Wft  thee  yet.     ,    f 

'  Hen.  And  ye  still  own  me?     Fear  ye  not  this  curse, 

' ;     That  blacks  the  world,  the  very  earth  I  stand  on  ; 

Unkings  me  all,  annuls  my  fatherhood,  v''  v", jiv^^'- 

;       Blasts  all  mine  organs,  refts  me  from  my  kind.  "     '/.*  :'3 

The  very  heaven  must  shut  from  me  its  light,      ^  }'   '         *,' 
The  stars  no  more  look  kindly.  Night  no  more     \  ■        ""'",, 
Give  me  her  holy  balm,  sweet,  blessed  sleep. 
No  friend,  nor  child,  nor  wife,  this  drives  me  out     ' 
Beyond  the  human.     Say  ye  even  yet  '    '';   , 

That  ye  do  own  me?     This  doth  much  amaze  me.    ''     ;    ';.,v. 

■  Bam.  We  love  thee  yet  and  own  thy  majesty,      .  ;   .   ,  vr 

V-      And  kneel  to  thy  allegiance.  ^=    •.:  ;t  inf  ;:*JX 

Hen.  If  this  were  real,  Henry's  heart  could  weep     Xf     >l 
With  human  gladness,  but  'tis  merely  fancy.    '*  : '  \;-v:'^''-.:-:^'^' 
You'd  shrivel  up  like  podshells  were  you  men. 
The  very  ground  1  stand  on  is  accursed.    ',,;:\. ,  ;  '    ,J : 
No  more  may  flowers  therefrom,  but  only  thorns  .;" 
•        And  noisesome  weeds  proceed.     Away  !  away  !  \  / i,! 
Ere  ye  be  cursed.  '-'-    .- ;;^-' -  .. -...    .,„,    "' 

Bam.  He  seemeth  distracted.      ,  '-'^Pr^'^tf-^:^. 

Lord.  This  curse  doth  lie  full  heavy  of  a  truth.        J-/   "^ 
Damn  that  Pope,  if  I  but  get  to  Rome  ,f:*^l 

There'll  be  two  Popes.   I'll  slice  him  i'  the  middle- 
Yea,  I'll  create  a  fleshy  schism  'twill  bother    "  ■  ■t'^X.-"^?^^' 
These  damned,  lewd  priests  to  reckon. 

Bam.  My  Lord,  great  Henry,  hearken  to  thy  friend, 
'Tis  Bamburg,  he  who  loved  thee  as  a  diild. 
Dost  know  me  ?  ; 


'.C 


150  HILDEBRANU.  ,       -    ;  ^  ^     I  ACT   III. 

Hen.  It  seemeth  I  know  thee  Hamburg,  or  ought  to  know, 
Did  not  this  haze  of  Hell  o'erweight  me  down.  ;:  /  ,  r^ii 

I  thought  thee  fled.  Why  dost  thou  stand  with  me?  *  -t' 
Knowest  thou  not  that  I  am  one  accursed  ?   ':.;-^'^:;:'^^r'^':''f^:tY 

Bam.  Hath  nature  no  pity  ? 

J/en.  Were  it  the  Queen  alone  who  fled  I'd  bear  it. 
I  never  treated  her  as  she  deserved.  »  ;  '^ 

She  was  too  kind,  I  used  her  brutal,  Bamburg,    ^:  ,..      :  r< 
I  used  her  brutal,  she  who  was  so  kind.  ,•;■';  i^    f 

Her  voice  was  soft,  but  this  my  heart  forgot  -^'r-  l-^l  y^^f'i-^ir' } 
In  that  forced  marriage.  Had  she  fled  alone  '  V  •.?  ; '  . ;:  't 
I  had  not  minded,  but  the  ones  I  loved,  .=^;.'  '  ;^'   -<- 

The  men  I  made  and  builded,  raised  them  up,    . ;  ^  ■  > 

Who  drank  my  cup,  took  honors  from  my  hand,    ,       ,  , 
And  made  the  heavens  ring  with  their  acclaims       v      '  •    * 
Were  I  victorious  :  that  all  these  should  melt  ,  ,.  j 

Like  some  magician's  smoke  at  Gregory's  word  ; 
'Tis  monstrous ;  yea,  so  monstrous,  that  meseems 
The  heavens  be  turned  to  iron  and  yon  cold  sun        \     -i 
Be  but  a  tearless  socket  turned  upon  me  ; 
And  Pity  and  Mercy  all  those  kindly  ministers         >  .       . 
Fled  from  the  universe  where  Henry  stands,         '    '    ^ .  ,  ^  , 
Yea,  Bamburg,  had  the  mighty  Lord  of  all  --X  ■■'-''  '■-': 

Such  power  of  unrelenting  as  this  Gregory,  r  -  .:  •  -  v 

The  very  fountains  of  nature  would  dry  up,  .  J 

The  kindly  elements  refuse  their  office,  -''''  ■^:7X' :.  Xi! 

And  morn  and  even,  noon  and  coohng  night  ^^^!  '    ;> 

With  blessed  dews  and  sunlight,  cease  to  be;  '^^^  ! 

Till  earth  would  stand  one  shrivelled  chaos  under 
The  pitiless  heaven  that  looks  on  Henry  now. 

Bam.  'Tis  the  Queen  that  we  be  come  about  my  Liege, 
'Tis  she  hath  sent  us. 

Hen.  To  mock  my  sorrow  with  false  courtesies, 
To  note  my  shame  and  carry  to  her  ears 
My  misery.     O  iron  Ones,  have  ye    .   , 
No  mercy  left ?,     ,  ^.;    v. 

Bam.  Nay,  nay,  my  Liege,  curse  not  but  hearken  me,^ 


|«5C.  I.       /  HILDEBRAND.        .       ,  '\^^, 

The  noble  woman  we  call  Germany's  Queen.    /   i^    ,  \  . 
Sendeth  unto  Henry,  greeting  thus  :  :5-..j'       ;•  ♦  r  '■  I' 

Though  thou  hast  not  an  army  thou  hast  love, 
Though  thou  hast  not  a  subject,  yet  a  king  „.   , .  ,^ 

To  her  alone,  her  kmg  of  kingly  men;  *,  '"  ,' 

Though  thou  art  cursed  she  still  will  keep  to  thee.    '^^^  ,     .' 

//en.  Oh  Hamburg,  this  is  worse  than  cursing,  can  kind 
Hold  such  a  blessing  for  a  wretch  like  Henry  ?         [Heaven 

Bam.  It  can  and  doth,  Her  Majesty  waits  without.  ,;•. 

/fen.  O,  Hamburg  I  cannot  see  her,  her  true  love,    '      •' 
Would  so  shame  all  my  falseness  all  mine  ill, 
It  seems  her  love  would  slay  me.      ■       [En/er  Margaret. 

Marg.  Henry!   ■,;'•'•-;:.  :'-  '■'••:^";v.""'i  .'.^'- ;■  ;/  ■'/■  ,,  ■■■;■',//-• 

//en.   My  Queen  !     (They  embrace.)       '    '  '  ^ 
Gregory,  O  Gregory,  where  is  thy  curse? 

'    Marg.  This  is  our  child,  look  up,  look  up,  my  Liege,      ■ 
Thy  subjects  may  desert  thee,  Heaven  doth  not. 

//en.  Gregory,  O  Gregory,  where  is  thy  curse  ?  ,     > 

It  seemed  so  heavy  an  hour  ago  that  earth           ,  ,    -^      .   ■: 
And  very  heaven  were  weighted  with  its  murk,    , 

Yet  now  it  lightens.     I  am  a  man  agen.     ::i  /;:;,.  ^^ 

-'-■  ..rv'.V.vf:'-  -.^V.-    ■,,■.;.,'  ■•,;.^  -  ■ ■•  .:•':   :-v-'t '"■■■;--.  ^  ,  '■A,Vi'vV^\,. 


:■,■•■<■■    ,.'-M.  . 


SCENE  II. — (^Rise  outer  Curtain.  A  yard  outside  the 
''>'■'-  castle  at  Canossa.  Enter  tivo  Monks  telling  their 
'■■%..    deads.)         •   ;  _■  ;;:;;^t     ,::m:y,^'ji  u,-: 

1st  M.  By  'r  Lady,  t'was  a  rare  sight,  a  rare  sight,  t'was 
never  known  afore,  nor  ever  be  agen  in  Europe. 

2nd  M.  He  comes  agen  this  morn,  'tis  three  days  since 
He's  stood  i'  the  courtyard  suing  Gregory's  favour. 

1st  M.  The  king  of  Europe  !  This  be  the  Church's  hope, 
May  every  season  send  us  a  Pope. 
I  must  within  ere  Brothei  John  doth  make 
A  fast  which  little  fits  my  hunger's  constant  ache. 


.X .«»: 


152  *  ,   f  ■     HILDEBRAND.  ^  [aCT  II#. 


A'- 


2nd  M.  T'wixt  heady  wine  an'  table  well  provide',  J 

'Tis  a  faring  world  till  coming  Eastertide.    *       >.      1  S^Exit. 

i  >  ^;z/<?r /ze;<?  Soldiers,     r'*^    ■' 

1st  S.  This  Gregory  hath  given  us  such  a  sight      '  .• 

As  makes  all  Germany  ashamed  for.      ..,; 
I'll  never  more  hold  jealousy  of  kings. 
Better  to  bed  J]  pon  old  soaken  straw  ;    ■ 

An'  be  a  targe  for  pikepoles  than  be  a  king. 

2nd  S.  He  looked  as  though  the  vvhole  world  shot  its 
On  his  bare  forehead,  [darts 

ist  S.  Yea,  an'  his  poor  Queen,  didst  see  her  sue 
Upon  her  knees,  to  gain  her  lord's  admission.  .  ; 

May  such  a  sight  ne'er  greet  mine  eyes  agen. 

2nd  S.  See,  now  they  come.      It  shames  my  soldierhood 
To  see  a  king  ensuffer  such  dishonour. 
He  is  no  Pope  would  hold  so  black  a  malice,  *       '    "^ 

To  pluck  from  hell.     Let's  out.  [Exit  both. 

Enter  Henry  attired  in  rude  clothes.,  bareheaded  and  bare- 
footed., with  a  wisp  of  straw  about  his  7vaist^  and  with  him 
the  Queen  in  black.  '  >      ■      ^-; ,':  '  ^-  :  ^  ^  ^  "    ; 

Queen.  This  way  my  Lord,  perchance  his  stony  heart     .. 
So  beat  upon  by  storming  of  our  tears,  ''''''■    '    '     •  ' 

May  soften  its  adamant. 

Hen.  'Tis  for  Germany  and  thee,  I  do  this  penance, 
And  for  our  sweet  boy's  kingship,  I,  myself  ';    \ 

Am  all  so  calloused  o'er  by  utter  spite  ''  ^^     'I.  A\   " 

Of  too  much  curses  showered  by  popes  and  fate,      i  '.       ■  " 
It  cares  me  little.     Let  the  world  go  wrack,        v   v  •• '^      ^  ; 
The  elements  mingle  in  a  loud  confusion,  \l^  H^^  ' 

The  maddened  seas  batten  the  ruined  lands. 
The  forests  shed  their  knotted  limbs,  the  year 
Be  now  all  mad  November.     I  am  but 
A  wasted  trunk  whereon  no  brutish  fate 
Can  wreck  its  malice.     I  am  so  annuled 
Were  all  the  devils  of  hell  carnated  popes, 
Thundering  anathemas  on  my  stricken  head, 
T'would  not  appal  me.     I  am  come  to  this. 


.SCI.]        ^         ^  ...       HILDEBRAND.  .  153 

;  V-    Queen.  Thou  wilt  meet  him  fairly,  thou  wilt  think  *> 
\    Not  on  thy  woes,  but  on  thy  dear  son's  hopes.  ■:  ^A%^*  ;-; 

Hen.  Fear  not  Margaret,  meeting  such  a  devil,      ^ 
Who  thinketh  him  a  God,  but  I'll  dissemble.       '• 
I'm  not  the  olden  Henry  that  I  was.    :   ;.^;;k^^  '  !,    y    >  \ 
Mine  inward  pride  will  make  mine  outward  meeker,    ,. , 
Subtility  with  subtility  I'll  match 
!-  To  wipe  out  this  dishonour.  [^Ktiocks  at  the  gate. 

:;■,■;  -^,  \. -.•/•#  --  ■•  .^ ,  -V :  Enter  Warder. ^  ->■;.■-. ...     •  ■    ^.  -■;■ ; 

;    '''■-    Ward.  Who  be  ye  ?  :';i->v.;;r-i  .:\  ^  '.\.  [',■,■..,['  ■••-.,  -.:■''■  i- •: 

Hen.  Henry  of  Germany,  whose  November  storms 
.    Have  stript  his  Summer's  royalty.    :^vvV  : :::i:i'  :  «:■   -;  v  '  .:'  :' 

Vf!    Ward.  What  would  you  within,  Henry  of  Germany?     ; 

'    Hen.  Knowest  thou  not,  O  Man,  I  am  a  King,     ' ,,  ;    ■/ 
Though  crownless,  in  these  bleak,  inclement  times,  .  .,■  %■ 
And  this  my  sorrowful  Queen.     Wouldst  thou  not    .  ,   ,  ;;•' 
!     Do  her  meet  reverence  ?        ..  -^  c^        /     /;• 

Ward.  We  know  no  King  but  the  Holy  Pope  of  Rome.  '':'■■ 

Hen.  I  seek  his  presence.     These  three  pitiless  days,   .;[. 
All  unavailing  I  have  battered  here  '  ■■■ 

Humbling;  my  royalty  to  his  stern  commands.  1'  '  "  . 

Were  these  gates  less  stony  they  would  open.     ■  ^'    '  '    '   ,;. 

Queen.  O,  Warder,  mercy  !     Pray  the  mighty  Pope,  .     p 
A  moment's  audience.     I  am  a  stricken  woman,  ,  : 

And  this  my  husband,  who,  once  called  a  King        .   ,  .  .»'t 
Now  doffs  his  kingship,  garbed  in  penitence. 
Hath  he  no  pity  ? 

Ward.  His  Holiness  hath  barkened  to  thy  suit. 
And,  be  thou  penitent,  would  pardon  thee. 
These  be  my  orders,  pass  you  now  within.  [0/>ens  gate. 

Queen.  Now,  blessed  be  Heaven.  Henry  sink  thy  wrongs 
In  thy  son's  future. 

Hen    Sink  my  wrongs?     They  have  sunk  so  low, 
That  lower  I  cannot.     Heaven  but  grant  me  space 
Till  I  avenge  me.  [Exit  both. 


*54       '^^  HILDEBRAND.  '  [aCT  III. 

'J.":    {Rise     inner     curtain.)      A     chapel    in    the    castle. 

"  Enter  HiLDKBKAND  attended  by  Cardinals.  Enter 
Beatrice  and  her  ttain.  Enter  Henry  and  the  Queen 
as  before.     The  Q\5ii^^  kneels.     Henr/  stands.   ^,.Vi 

Queen  {to  Hen.)  Kneel  !  kneel  !  or  all  is  lost.        '^    '  " 

'     Jfild.  Kneel  ;  proud  Man,  to  Heaven.  '        :.; 

//en.  Yea,  I  will  kneel  to  Heaven  (hneels),  (aside)  but  not 

• '         •  7    ;■         '  '  '  '       ■  [to  thee. 

//iid.  Henry  of  Germany,  Usurper,  know  that  thus  ^,  "  ', 
Doth  Heaven  chasten  holy  Church's  foes,  '      .    ;.(  . 

Not  in  hate  or  malice,  but  in  love,  ^    •:;■><'■    .      ' 

That  showing  earth  more  perilous,  Heaven  be  safe,         .  '  t 
Because  of  thy  disloyalty  to  the  Church,  .  • ,     ; 

Usurping  those  her  ancient,  holy  rights,  ^ 

Not  holding  thy  kingship  as  given  from  her  hand,        '^'  '  . 
Hath  angry  Heaven  stripped  thee  of  thy  crown,  "^^    - 

Thy  people  and  thy  sceptre,  rendering  thee  '  ' 

The  scorned  of  the  meanest  outcast  wretch  ' 

That  hugs  his  rags  in  human  wretchedness, 
Abhorr'd  and  despised  ot  those  who  once  ;  '\      ,/ 

Courted  thy  favour.     Take  this  cruel'lesson        ;  '  ,  r 

Home  to  the  prideful  chambers  of  thy  heart, 
And  know  kings  henceforth  but  as  mortal  men,  ,      /  " 

Their  power  ephemera  of  a  summer  day, 
Be  they  not  fief  to  Heaven.     Be  thy  penitence 
Sincere  in  this  dread,  humble  hour  of  thine  .^  /,.' 

Thou  wilt  become  the  vassal  of  high  Heaven,  -  -^ '■:-'- 

Mending  thy  future  from  thy  sinful  past.  • 

//en.  (Aside)  Great  God  !  am  I  a  King?  What  is  a  King  ? 
Is  he  a  dog  to  dare  be  spoken  thus  ? 

Queen,  (aside.)  Henry,  for  the  love  of  Germany, 
Me,  and  thy  child,  keep  but  thy  patience  now. 
(To  HiLD.)  O,  Holy  Father,  curb  thine  awful  anger, 
Remove  this  curse  that  weighteth  Henry  down, 
Makes  him  a  fearful  leper  to  his  kind. 
Restore  his  people's  favour,  thou  hast  the  power. 
And  thou  wilt  do  it. 


SC.  II.]  HILDEBRANp.  155 

Hild.  Madam,  thou  true  daughter  of  the  Church,  4,   ,v  .. 
Hath  thib  man  used  thee  well  that  thou  shouldst  sue 
For  him  our  favour  ?     Hath  he  not  been  false     ,   , , 
;  To  thee,  to  Germany  and  Holy  Church  ?        ,  ^  '  ,  c    »       • 
Thou  art  a  woman,  use  a  woman's  art,         '      '      '  v    / 
Break  his  presumption,  soften  his  rude  heart, 
And  we  will  soften  ours.     Meantime,  to  thee,      \to  Henry 
I  would  despatch  my  duty  as  hitjh  Pope  .  ., ,. 

O'er  my  poor  people,  in  this  woeful  world. 
Know  you,  Henry  of  Germany,  once  a  King, 
But  now  a  suppliant  outcast  at  my  feet,  '.  ij       ,    : ,  - 
Abandoned,  abhorred  of  all  true  christian  men,     *   ."    -' 
The  scorn  alike  of  lowly  and  of  high,  .  .    ,    ..  ■ 

Know  you  I  would  be  merciful  a  little. 
For  this  cause  I  will  now  come  down,  come  down,     ' 
As  you  through  yours  once  blasphemously  demanded, 
From  out  my  holy  chair  of  sainted  Peter, 
And  be  like  you,  a  single,  naked  man, 
Leaving  my  cause  with  yours  to  mighty  Heaven. 

Cards.  O,  noble  soul :  O,  noble  princely  heart :  •  ■ 

An  Abbot.  Base  Prince,  base  Prince,   'tis  more  than  thou 

fdeservest. 

Hild.  Know,  therefore,  now,  in  presence  of  these  men. 
Members  immaculate,  of  Holy  Church, 
That  thou,  through  thy  base  agents  and  by  mouth. 
Didst  charge  me,  Gregory,  Prince  of  God  on  earth,     V. 
And  Vicar  of  the  mighty  risen  Christ,  '"  ,  ^ 

With  crimes  unworthy  of  my  holy  state,  ^    '    i 

Heinous  and  awful,  so  hideous  in  their  sound,  '; 

That  they  were  better  nameless,  the  tongue  would  fail       \ 
To  use  its  ofifice,  giving  them  to  the  air.  ^ 

Know,  furthermore,  that  I  in  my  high  office,  • !,, 

Have  placed  thee  under  ban  of  Holy  Church,  ^; 

Shut  out,  abhorred  and  excommunicate,  .     ,.  '*''' 

Because  of  sins  committed  at  thy  hand,         '     '  '  "«vv^*^ 
Abhorrent  and  accursed  in  their  nature, 
Of  which,  God  knows,  I  have  the  truest  witness. 


156  ^       "'       HIUDEBRAND.  [aCT  III. 

( G^es  A»  attaitar  and  taking  a  consecrated  wafer ^  returns 
with  it  in  his  hand.)  .^,.;^-^i^-_yy,:^)-^^-^,^i--i,-^ 

„  Now,  Henry  of  Germany,  men  may  lie,      .':;;:■  -  ^-^y 
And  even  Popes  be  sinful,  flesh  is  frail ;    '''^1  t" 

But  Heaven  at  last  will  judge  betwixt  us  two.     {Raising  the 

wafer.     The  Cardinals  all  draw  back  in  fear.) 
If  I  be  liar  in  the  smallest  part,  .     !  '■  •.   ' 

Deceitful  or  malicious  in  that  judgment,  '  '      '     : 

Wherewith  I  have  judged  thee,  heaping  crimes 
Unspeakable  and  abhorrent  on  thy  head,  '_": 

May  listening  Heaven  which  is  only  just, 
Strike  me,  impious,  with  its  awful  thunders 
While  I  eat  this.         [^Breaks  the  wafer  in  two  and  eats  half. 

A  cry  of  wonder  comes  from  the  Cardinals.  There  ensues 
a  pause  of  a  few  seconds^  then  he  holds  out  the  broken 
wafer  to  Henry.      ^  v;   i  ,,   .,   ,     .        .      ■-     ,     .  ;  •-- 

Henry  of  Germany,  wilt  thou  do  the  same?        '  ■ 

Hen:  {Starts  back  in  confusion  a?id  horror.)     Nay,  nay, 
'tis  impious  !  'tis  impious  ! 

Cards.  Guilty,  guilty! 

Hen.  {Aside.)  What  influence  be  this  I  fight  against  ? 
This  devil  doth  ever  p'ace  me  in  the  wrong. 

Hild.  Henry  of  Germany,  wilt  thou  perform  the  same 
.';  And  leave  thine  innocence  to  the  power  of  Heaven  ? 

Hen.  {Stands  boldly  tip  and  corf ronts  Yii\.D.)  Most  mighty 
Hildebrand,  Prelate  of  Holy  Rome,  ,,(.:% 

Though  to  refuse  thy  gage  be  to  acknowledge 
His  consciousness  of  human  frailty, 
Henry  of  Germany,  whate'er  his  sins. 
Hath  too  much  sense  of  Heaven's  mighty  justice 
To  desecrate  the  eternal  bending  Ear 
By  such  blasphemings.     I  am  no  priest  of  God, 
I  am  no  Pope,  august,  infallible, 
But  only  a  weak  and  fallible  sinning  man, 
As  Heaven  knoweth.     But  in  this  grave  matter, 
If  thou  be  right  and  I  be  wholly  wrong, 


SC.  II.]  HILDEBRANI).  157 

Heaven  knoweth  already  without  such  dread  presumption. 

'Tis  not  for  Church  but  men  you  judge  this  issue, 

Hence,  I  demand  a  larger  audience,  '  - 

Tribunal  more  public  than  these  witnesses,     « 

Impartial,  unprejudiced  toward  my  wrongs, 

So  be  I  judged,  it  be  not  in  a  corner. 

Meanwhile,  if  I  have  erred,  in  my  new  kingship 

In  word  or  deed  agamst  thy  holy  office 

Here  as  a  faithful  son  of  holy  Church 

By  that  great  love  I  bear  for  Germany, 

By  that  dread  duty  I  owe  my  wife  and  child, 

I  crave  thy  pardon  and  beseech  thy  blessing.  [^Kneels. 

Hild.  Henry  of  Germany,  thou  standest  now. 
Rebuked  of  Heaven  before  the  eyes  of  men.  ...  ,  >• 

As  I  had  power  to  place  thee  under  ban, 
Alienate  from  holy  Church  and  men,  ,    • 

So  I  withdraw  that  ban  from  off  thee  now. 
Arise,  my  Son,  in  thy  new  penitence, 
The  Church  commands  thee,  rise,  and  go  in  peace. 

Henry  stands.       The  Pope  and  the  Cardinals /^i5<?«/. 

Hen    'Tis  off!  'tis  off,  I  am  a  man  once  more. 
Out !  oat !  let  us  without !  I  cannot  breathe 
In  these  damned  walls!  ,..  ■ 

,;,    ,       w  ^  ,..    \Cuttain. 

SCENE  III. — {A  poofly  furnished  room _  Margaret  i^a/^^ 
by  a  meagre  fit  e  nursing  hep  sick  child.)  .„. . 

Marg.  O  Gerbhert !  Gerbhert  !  in  what  living  stone 
Are  you  entombed,  dead  to  our  sorrow  now  ? 
Ah,  my  poor  Baby,  fatherless,  fatherless,  now.      •  ' 
Dying  !  dying  !  Like  a  pallid  candle, 
I  watch  your  little  spark  to  less  and  less  ^    V 

Go  slowly  deathwards.     Hark  !  I  hear  a  step. 
Hush  your  moans,  my  Babe.     Was  it  your  cry  ? 
Or  but  the  wind,  the  icy,  winter  wind. 
The  cruel  midnight,  eating  with  icy  tooth 
The  hearts  of  mortals  ? 


'M:, 


158  '  HIIDEBRAND.  [aCT  III. 

.-•;■'•■^''- ^v;-;?M' ,■,./ :.  -u   '"  Enter  Ariald.  -j---:  '.■:.:..;       ;,:;  'l  ;■,(—,.  r.{ 

Ar.  Margaret,  I  have  come  !    ' 

Mafg.  Yea,  so  have  Winter,  Misery,  Despair  and  Death, 
Your  kindlier  brothers.     Hunger  may  be  gaunt. 
But  he  is  honest.     Death  be  terrible,  '  \   ;  frj/;. 

But  he  hath  mercy  on  the  pinched  cheek      :  is 

And  cruel,  tortured  heart ;  but  who  art  thou  ?  .     ;  \ 

Ar.  Knowest  me  not,  Margaret?  '  " 

Marg.  I  know  the  Pope,  who  is  a  monster  stone 

That  all  the  world  like  some  poor  maddened  sea,  ■, 
Might  beat  against  and  break  and  break  in  vain ; 

I  know  earth's  misery,  its  inhuman  silence,  ^^ 
Where  gaunt  and  shadowy  eyes  glare  round  and  watch 

The  slow,  brute  process  nearer,  day  by  day        ;            '  ' 

Of  hunger  gnawing  at  the  walls  ot  life  ;            '.  '   .     "      ;"  ' ., 

But  thee  I  know  not,  thou  art  far  too  dread         "  '      '  "-  '; 

For  my  poor  knowledge.     When  I  see  thy  face             '  ". 

This  earth  doth  seem  a  hell  and  God  a  devil.             '  " 

Ar.  Margaret,  forswear  this  maddened  mood,    , 
Catherine,  your  mother  killed  herself,  '        ,    . 

By  her  own  folly,  hoping  against  hope.  ^^ 

Bethink  you  of  your  child.     You  murder  it  "  '. 

In  killing  my  poor  hopes.     Give  me  thy  love,         \       . 
And  life  to  thy  sweet  babe,  be  not  so  cruel. 
You  forced  me  to  this,  I  would  not  have  stirred  '>  ';;  /   ilii 
One  finger  to  molest  you  or  your  child,  - 

Had  you  not  by  your  beauty  raised  in  me       <    '        .  .* 
A  longing  for  to  own  you,  call  you  mine. 
Gerbhert  never  loved  as  I  have  loved, 
It  eats  me  like  a  wasting  all  these  years. 
Had  I  been  Gerbhert,  master  of  yourlove, 
And  this  my  child,  I  would  have  fought  the  world, 
Ere  I'd  have  left  you,  dared  both  Hell  and  Heaven, 
Rather  than  let  one  furrow  groove  your  cheek. 
One  sorrow  rack  your  soul.     O  Margaret,  Margaret,! 
Say  but  the  word,  that  I  may  save  thy  child, 


SC.  III.]    :  y  HILDERRAND.  ,  ^g 

Give  me  the  right  to  fan  that  poor  flame  back, 
And  thme  old  beauty  to  its  former  glow. 

Marg.  Blackness  !  blackness  !  I  grope  !  I  grope  I  I  grope' 
Forgive  me,  Heaven,  forgive  mc  !     There  is  no  HeavLT 
rhere  is  no  God  !     The  universe  one  cave, 
Where  I,  a  blinded  bat  do  beat  my  wings 
In  wounded  darkness.     Q  my  child,  my  child!  "^  '■'"'' 
bome  one  must  save  thee  !  .  '       - 

^r.  I  am  the  only  answer  to  thy  prayer, 

If  there's  a  God,  he  speaks  to  thee  through  me 
Margaret,  Margaret,  thou  wilt  come  with  me.  •    "   -  ' 

Maro,  What  shall  I  do  ?     Is  there  no  other  voice  ?    -^ 
A^.  Yea,  thou  wilt  come.     Thou  wilt  forget  all  this,    t 
In  future  happiness.     Come,  my  Margaret ! 
(Ma,o,,ref  rises  to  her  feet  as  if  to  go  7m  th  him,  then  stops.) 
.  Ar.  Nay,  nay,  I  am  thine  answer,  God  saith  yea,  to  this 
■Marg.  O  God!  O  God!   {To  Ariald)   Thou  hast  thine 
,     Ar.  Margaret !  [^^^^.^^  ^^^^  , 

Marg  God  sends  thine  answer  now.     My  babe  is  dead  ! 
{Falls  heavily  to  the  ground.)     (Ariald  steals  out.)  ' '  i 

Ar.  Beaten,  beaten,  beaten  at  the  last !  '\- 

I  almost  believe  me,  even  evil  me,  k  '•  ' 

There  is  a  God !  ^       . '         \    ..     .  .       '.'•'■ 

^       ■•■  \Cuttain. 


SCENE  IY.--A   battle-held.      Enter    troops   marching. 
I'lghting  begins  in  the  distance.     Enter  two  officers. 

1st  O.  This  is  the  final  chance  for  Germany.  - 

Be  Henry  now  defeated  on  this  field,  ^ 

He  loses  empire,  Rodulph  holds  the  west. 

2nd  O.  Woe  with  poor  Germany,  her  lands  lie  waste,    v 
Her  cities  either  sacked  or  armed  forts. 
Withstand  the  common  foe  ;  her  King  outcast,    \    s         :  * 
Battles  for  his  rule  with  his  own  vassals. 


l6o  '         HILDEBRAND.  [aCI  III. 

{Enter  Henry  with  a  few  knights.) 

Hen.  This  way,  this  v;ay,  the  enemy  press  back, ;    .^       > 
One  struggle  now  for  Germany  and  my  crown. 

{All pass  out.     Enter  Wolf    of  Bamburg,   with  the   head 

of  RODULPH.)  „ 

Wolf.  Ha,  ha,  thou  thing  that  wert  a  pope's  retainer. 
Roll,  there  the  nonce  an'  mix  thee  with  the  dust, 
Thou  that  dared  a  king's  prerogatives. 

{Re-enter  Yi^^KW .) 

IVolf.  Victory!  Sire;  victory!  '  , 

Hen.  How  now? 

IVolf.  I  bring  thee  not  thy  crown,  but  rather  the  head 
That  would  have  worn  it.     Knowest  the  face  ? 

Hen.  Rodulph  !  ,,       'f      ^v 

Wolf.  Even  so,  his  army  be  repulsed. 
And  Germany  is  thine  to  rule  once  more.      , 

,.  .y-.^-..  :■.^:f;.-<^  {Enter  Soldievs.) 

Hen.  Good  Lords  and  Generals,  Fellow-countrymen, 
The  enemy  to  all  our  peace  is  dead, 
His  army  routed  and  the  battle  ours. 

The  God  of  battles  now  hath  smiled  our  way,  .--   .  '      > 

We  will  henceforth  resume  our  royal  sway.  ,        . 

See  that  our  pardon  be  proclaimed  wide  .    ;  - 

To  all  who  lay  down  arms  or  join  our  ranks.  , 

Meantime  we  bury  this  defeated  rebel  ' 

And  >yith  him  memory  of  this  evil  time,         «v  •;  ::  .; 

Then  hence  to  Rome  to  make  our  empery  strong.    ^^*\v4>> 
Know  henceforth  Lords  and  Generals,  Henry  stands 
The  champion  of  Europe's  civil  rights. 
The  friend  of  liberty  and  trampled  man. 
Nor  shall  this  sword  be  sheathed  till  Germany 
And  Italy,  yea,  all  of  Europe's  soil 
Be  freed  from  sway  of  proud,  pretentious  priests, 
And  peace,  humanity  and  freedom  reign. 

[^utfaitt. 


[3C.  I.  HILDEBRAND.  l6l 

•.'•-'  ■  -   ■'..    ACT  IV.    ■•      -..  .'   .. 

SCENE  I.— (A  fortress  near  Milan^  where  Gregory  is 
in  exile.  Enter  Margaret,  crazed^  with  her  dead  babe  in 
her  arms.) 

Marg.  They  would  have  stopped  me,  but  my  love's  good 
Did  cheat  them  all.     O,  my  sweet,  waxen  Babe,     [cunning 
The  Holy  Father,  he  will  tell  me  true, 
An'  make  thee  smile  agen,  thou  art  not  dead,  _=      ' 

They  lie  who  say  thou'rt  dead.     Here  cometh  one 

Enter  Hild.  7nuch  older  looking,  accompanied  by  Peter. 

Who  hath  a  holy  face,  he'll  speak  for  me    ,  '  1     . 
Unto  the  Pope  to  make  thee  smile  agen. 

Hild.  Nay,  Peter,  they  may  rail  and  rail  at  me, 
Strip  all  my  wealth  and  make  them  fifty  Popes,  * 

They  will  not  shake  me. 

Pet.  Gregory,  Gregory,  ponder  well  thine  answer. 
Remember,  if  thou  art  the  real  Pope, 
Thou  art  not  in  Rome.  ' 

Hild.  Wherever  I  am,  Rome  is  !  They  may  drive 
Me  into  farthest  banishment,  they  but  put 
God's  holiness  from  out  their  precincts.     I  am  Rome  ! 

Marg.  Good  Father :  ;.,.•         - 

Pet.  Woman,  what  wantest  thou  here?  .  -i 

Hild.  Drive  her  not  out,  Peter,  see,  her  reason  "  -  •  '  i  - 
Like  me  from  my  high  Papacy,  is  exiled  .     >■ 

From  her  poor  body.     I  would  speak  with  her.  i^  i   •  ■ 

Sorrow  and  defeat  make  men  more  kindly.  W:  i^ -^ 

{To  Margaret.)     Daughter,   wouldst   thou  speak   a  word 
with  me  ? 

Mar,  Sir,  I  would  see  the  Pope,  but  his  attendants 
Would  drive  me  out,  an'  my  sweet  baby  here. 
They  say  he's  dead  an'  he  will  smile  no  more, 
'Tis  but  because  that  terrible  Pope  had  laid 
His  curse  on  us  my  babe  will  never  smile. 

Hild.  Poor  Girl,  thy  child  is  dead. 


162  *  HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  IV. 

Marg.  Nay,  nay,  'tis  only  this  dread  awful  curse. 
You  are  a  kind  old  man,  you'll  go  with  me,  .       .  ,--,,,.:;,  ^/ 
And  plead  with  me  unto  that  terrible  Pope,  '     ,. -,  ...  ■ 

And  make  him  take  this  curse  from  off  our  lives,        .,       ,,\  •■ 
An' make  my  baby  smile.  .. 

Hild.  What  curse,  my  daughter  ?  ,      .;:     .,  \    'f^  f  ;  '• 

Mar^.  Take  me  but  to  him,  I  will  tell  it  all,  -^i  ^    '-' 

But  here  my  mind  forsakes  me,  someone  said  '■■'■      ■  "  ' 

I  was  his  daughter,  but  they  must  have  lied.  ■     ." 
God  would  not  make  a  father  so  unkmd 

To  curse  his  only  daughter,  kill  her  joy,  ,,            .. 

And  make  her  baby  like  my  baby  here.     ' '       '  -/  .     ;  •    - 

Hild.  O  God,  O  God,  it  cannot,  cannot  be  !      „    ' , 
A  mist  seems  growing  up  before  mine  eyes  !  •     ;' 

Peter,  Peter,  this  is  mine  own  daughter.       ■'  "     •'       '     '/, 

Pet,  Yea,  she  is  distract.     These  women  ever 
Do  come  betwixt  us  and  our  sight  of  heaven.  '     . 

Hild.  My  Daughter,  know  thy  father.    I  am  the  Pope. 

Marg,  Nay,  nay,  but  thou  art  kmdly,  hast  no  heart 
To  lay  a  winter  like  is  laid  on  me  ?         .^      ;  ■  :     •       -   .      ' 

Hild.  Nay,  Daughter,  I  am  he,  that  awful  man,  :  • 

I  am  Pope  Gregory.  ^  ^    ;    .;^v,;  v  ^,  ;.,: .        ■ 

yMarg.  Then  if  you  be,  take  off  this  hideous  curse, 
Make  my  babe  laugh  and  crow  and  stuff  his  hands      .v  >v^   ^ 
In  rosy  mouth,  and  speak  his  father's  name,  vi-^in/^i^^l 

And  he  will  come      They  say  thou  hast  God's  ear, 
And  He  will  do  it. 

Hild.  O  Peter,  Peter,  this  would  break  my  heart 
Were  I  but  human. 

Pet.  Send  her  away.     Thou  canst  do  her  ho  good, 
The  child  is  dead,  and  she  hath  lost  her  reason. 
Much  must  be  suffered  he'e  that  good  may  come. 
Send  her  away. 

Hild.  Nay,  Peter,  I  have  worked  full  o'er  enough 
For  Holy  Church,  this  much  Gjd  asked  of  nie, 


^^-  ^•]  HILDEI3RAND.  ,5^^' 

He  did  not  make  me  butcher  to  my  child.     '»'•   'Tf  .^-^  t 
Hildebrand  in  sorrow  finds  a  heart.  -    ;  v'l    .  ,.  i.  ,M        - 
Out,  out  thou  cruel  man,  for  one  short  hour       -  ■     ■■ 
Let  me  forget  the  Pope  and  be  a  father.  [JSxi/  Pkter. 

Mar^.  Holy  Father,  make  my  baby  smile, 
And  God  will  thank  thee  by  a  mother's  heart.         ''''[ 

^Aj^'^"^'  ^^^"gh^c'".  <"^od  will  make  thy  baby  smile,      ^     '' 
n  hen  thou  and  I  and  others  like  us  smile, 

And  we  have  put  aside  this  earthly  dross  '  ' 

That  weights  our  spirits  down,  in  His  Great  Judgment.     - ' 

J^^^rg-  O,  Father,  thou  art  kind,  and  thou  wilt  do  it 
J  hou  hast  all  power,  all  heaven-given  strength,  '  ' 
To  bless,  to  ban,  to  slay  to  make  alive  :  '     ^     •      '-•   -/ 

0  bring  my  baby  back  to  me  again.       '    :  '       'i^  -  .      /-    ' 

////^.   Daughter,  I  am  but  a  weak,  despised  old  man'     '  '  . 
One  poor  enough  m  even  this  life's  powers  ,.  .     ; 

To  make  him  jealous  o'  yon  sweet,  sleeping  babe  ' 

Whom  the  angel  of  death  makes  waxen  in  thine  arms.  '  '     ' 

Man^r,  o  Father,  tell  me  not  that  he  is  dead. 

Ih'ld.  Margaret,  Margaret,  this  is  not  thy  babe 
But  some  sweet  marbled  mould  of  what  he  was.     -    - 

1  know  a  bank  where  we  will  plant  this  blossom,  ■ '  ^ 
And  water  it  anew  with  our  poor  tears.                '    .■'•':' 
Could  I  as  easy  bury  my  black  griefs,             -    .  ^     .'      •  .  -. 
And  ail  the  storm  cloud  passions  of  this  life,      '      '  -       "      • 
God  knows,  I'd  make  me  sexton  to  them  all            ... 
Come,  let  us  out.                ^         '     .-                   {Exit  both. 

Enter  Peter  and  a  Bishop.^       r^  'v 

Pet.  He  hath  gone  out  with  some  mad  woman  but  now 
He  gets  more  in  his  dotage  day  by  day. 
I  cannot  move  him,  thou  canst  try  thy  power.  - 

Bish.   If  he  would  only  come  to  terms  with  Henry 
And  patch  this  foolish  quarrel,  the  Church  is  safe       '      '^"'^ 
And  if  not  then —  '  ^ 

Pet.  Then  what?  .  ■  .  ft?    ■-    v,. 


164     :  •    *         HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  IV. 

'i^';  Bish.  He  must  be  brought  to  make  his  deposition. 

Pet.  He'd  die  first  ere  he  would  do  either,  ..        -  .  '     '^z 
Here  he  comes.  '  >    ,      - 

Enter  Hildebrand  bearing  the  dead  body  of  Margaret. 
'Tis  the  mad  woman.    \  ^  •        - 

Hild.  Come  help  me  to  lay  her  here.      She   was   my 

'^\'  ■  ■  ''?!•>    '"■"■■''-  '■       •  '  -      [(daughter. 

Bish.  Is  his  Holiness  mad,  that  he  uttereth  thus, 
Such  scandal  'gainst  the  Church's  dignity  ?  • 

Hild.  Nay,  rather  found  his  reason  for  an  hour. 
Like  other  men  through  earth's  humanities. 
Mine  arrogance  did  dream  I  was  above 
Men's  humble  sorrows.     See  my  soul  rebuked. 
She  bore  it  Peter  till  the  first  clod  fell 
Upon  yon  little  blossom,  then  she  shook, 
A.nd  when  it  passed  from  sight  her  soul  passed  too. 
I  fear  me  much  we  blunder  out  God's  truths, 
And  mar  His  angels  with  our  brutal  laws. 
And  change  His  temple  to  a  prison  house.     '       .'  '--, 
She  was  a  blossom,  Peter,  so  like  her  mother,  v      ^^ 

I'll  bury  her  out  there  beside  her  babe, 
And  when  the  winds  shake  and  the  roses  blow,  •  / 
They'll  know  each  other  as  their  angels  know 
Each  ether  in  Heaven.     Would  I  were  sleeping  too  !  ,  -  * 
Dost  know  mine  age,  Peter?     I  am  over  sixty.     .      -^^    :,,,« 

Pet.  Your  holiness   forgets.     The    bishop  would   speak 

;■  ^^;    :       '-        [with  you. 

Hild.  Forgive  me  bishop,  aye,  'tis  thou  Brunelli, 
What  is  thy  business  ?  ,::  :<    .r,     &■ 

Brunelli.  Your  Holiness  must  pardon  my  intrusion 
On  this  o'er  sad  occasion,  important  matters 
Must  be  their  own  excuse.     I  will  speak  plainly  ;— ^  ,;^  .^. 
One  by  one  your  party  leaves  you,  soon 
You  will  be  desolate.     Our  only  chance  is  now. 

Hild.  Ha!  now?     And  now  ! 


SC.  1.]  HILDEBRAND.  165 

Britnelli  You  must  meet  Henry.       ;,    :',■:*'.  .■■■,    .      -  . 

Hild.  Never!  >''      •' 

Brunelli.  Then  Peter,  tell  him  for  I  cannot.         *  : 

Pet.  The  matter,  Gregory,  is  in  short  thou  must 
Plant  empery  upon  bold  Henry's  head  :  .., 

Or  lose  thy  tiara.  ,  .  i  >   . 

Hild.  Never,  as  I  am  Pope,  I  will  do  neither  ! 
Though  I  am  wasted,  aged,  worn  and  weak. 
Deserted  by  false  friends  and  hireling  hounds, 
I  still  am  Gregory.     Never  hand  but  mine 
Can  dare  uncrown  me.     Let  him  dread  my  curse 
Who'd  force  me  to  it.     Yea,  that  hand  will  shrivel 
Ere  it  uncrowns  me.     People  the  world  with  Popes, 
There's  but  one  Peter.     Look  on  this  my  sorrow 
Embittering  with  its  pangs  mine  olden  age,  *  ^ 

And  know  what  I  have  dene  for  Holy  Church. 
By  that  sweet  face  that  lieth  there  in  death, 
A  martyr,  if  ever  was  one,  to  God's  great  cause, 
I  bid  you  go  and  tell  proud  Henry,  yea,  '  '  "' 

And  all  those  false,  foul  prelates  of  the  church, 
That  Hildebrand  who  crushed  out  his  own  heart,     ' 
To  keep  the  right  will  die  as  he  hath  lived. 

\Curtain' 


SCENE  n. — {A  chapel  close  near  the  castle.  The  grave  of 
Margaret  and  her  child  mat ked  by  a  cross.)  Enter  Hilde- 
brand leaning  on  the  arm  of  Peter. 

Hild.  Little  did  I  dream  that  it  was  I      ^.^  ,;r^^%.,  h^;,    ;.,::;. 
Would  be  the  first  to  go.     O,  Peter,  Peter,"  '"'"'•  f,iviW-a:  . 
This  world — ambition  hath  eaten  up  my  heart,      .,  ,       ■ 
And  my  life  with  it.     Better  to  be  there  ';'  '     "^ '", 

Where  she  doth  lie  than  to  be  God's  Vicar.    ^J^^'   I'^JlJ 


w 


Pet.  Gregory  if  you  would  only  compromise,   ->| 
And  meet  the  wishes  of  the  Cardinals,  i#^?i*^v^ 

And  temper  Henry,  you  might  die  in,  Rome. 

Hild.  Never,  never,  better  end  me  here. 


1 66  '      HILDEBRAND.  [aCT   IV. 

Than  give  my  life  the  h'e.     Do  they  their  worst, 

What  I  have  hved  for,  I  will  die  for  too. 

Better  the  Church  go  crumble  all  to  ruins 

And  Europe  be  a  field  of  ravenin*^  wolves, 

Than  compromise  be  purchased  at  such  price, 

And  sell  the  Church's  right  to  impious  hounds. 

And  make  the  temj)le  of  God  a  den  of  thieves. 

Go,  Peter,  go,  your  heart  is  like  the  rest.    ;  . 

Go,  leave  me,  I  am  but  a  poor  old  man, 

Weak,  palsied,  leaning  slowly  to  my  tomb^  < 

I  need  no  friend,  God  will  be  merciful, 

Though  cold  and  rude  earth's  loves,  I  can  but  die. 

Pet.  Thou  knowest,  Gregory,  I  will  never  leave  thee. 

Hild.  'Twill  not  be  long,  and  then  they'll  have  their  will, 
O,  Europe  !  Europe  !     Peter,  wilt  thou  see 
That  this  place  is  kept  sacred.     Yon  rose  tree 
Kept  watered,  and  yon  twin-mound  holy, 
Till  thou  dost  die  ? 

Pet.  I  will.  ^     ■'' 

mid.  She  was  my  daughter,  Peter,  and  like  her  mother, 
And  the  poor  babe  it  looked  so  sweet  in  death, 
Mine  age  went  to  it.     O,  Damiani, 
Thetie  women  and  children  twine  about  our  hearts. 

Pet.  Wilt  you  go  within  ? 

^  Jiild.  Methought  I  heard  one  hum  an  old-time  tune. 

Pet.  Nay,  Gregory,  thou  meanest  a  chant  or  hymn. 

Hild.  Nay,  Peter,  but  a  simj^le  ballad  tune,  ;..      !, 

That  I  loved  long  ago.     Know  thee,  Peter,      -  •- •'      •  -^  - 
All  music  is  of  God,  and  it  be  holy.  ,■'''•',*•      '"^ ., 

Pet.  What  be  that  noise  ?  {rising)    Who  be  those  coming 
Htld.  Peter,  thou  wilt  keep  this  place  ?  [here  ? 

Pet.  Hildebrand  :  Hildebrand  :  Gregory  :  dost  thou  hear? 
Many  cardinal?  and  bishops  corne  this  way. 

Efiter  Cardinals,  Bishops  and  Lords. 

Card.  Btunelli.  Your  Holiness  ! 


SC.   II.]  hILDEBUAND.  167 

Hild.  {Rising  suddenly  and  ivavim^  his  handimpenously.) 
Back  !  back  !  This  ground  be  holy  !  .     . 

Brunelli.  We  be  come,  my  Lord, — 

Hild.  Back  !  back  !  or  fear  my  curse.     Sully  not 
These  silent,  dreamless  ears  with  impious  words 
Of  earth's  ambitions,  Church's  greed  and  curse- 
Desecrate  not  this  peace  with  life's  mad  riot.  ,    ■  ' 
'Tis  dedicate  to  memories  alone  .  •  "■ 
Of  youth  and  innocence. 

•   '  \Tliey  Jail  back\  he  ,^oes  fonvard. 

Hild.  What  be  your  will  ? 

Brunelli.  May  it  please  your  Holiness,   we  come  from 
'  ^  [Rome. 

Hild.  I  am  Rome  !     And  when  these  old  walls  crumble, 
Rome  hath  fallen,  till  another  be  built. 
'Twill  not  be  long. 

P'^^.   Know  lord  Cardinals  that  the  Holy  Father 
Is  iiidisposed.     Complete  your  business. 

Hild.  Nay,  not  ill,  but  rather  worn  of  life 
And  its  vexatious  evils,  foolish  toils. 
Aye,  lord  Cardinals,  weigh  you  my  curse  so  heavy  ? 
That  ye  have  came  so  far  to  crave  my  blessing  ? 

Brunelli.  We  come,  my  Lord,  to  heal  this  cruel  schism 
That  rendeth  Holy  Church  and  maketh  mock 
Of  Peter's  chair,  throughout  all  Christendom. 
Henry  of  Germany — 

Hild.  Silence  :  or  I'll  forget  the  Church's  good. 
And  curse  her  Cardinal.     Name  me  not  that  monster, 
Save  in  anathema.     Look  on  me  Brunelli, 
And  these  poor  hands  wherein  life's  blood  runs  cold, 
So  that  they  scarce  can  lift  in  Church's  blessing  ; 
Look  on  my  face  and  see  Death  written  there,  _ 

In  plainest  rharactry.     Yet  know  proud  Cardinals, 
I  still  am  Peter  till  my  latest  breath.  ' 

{He  staggers.      Peter  catches  him  in  his  arms.) 


Y'.    l68  :    -      HILDEBRAND.  [aCT  IV. 

Pe/.  Great  God,  he  dies.     Help  !  help  !  lord  Cardinals, 
The  greatest  soul  in  Europe  passelh  now.  ^   '-     [help  ! 

//i/d.  {Sta^s^ers  to  his  feet)      I  aai  going  Damiani,  heard 
you  sounds 
Of  rustling  pinions?     Did  you  know  a  presence  ~      ' 

That  darkened  all  the  horizon  with  its  wincjs  ?         .     '-■.-■■■ 
Nay,  I  can  stand  alone.    Unhand  me,  Peter!  '  '. 

Lord  Cardinals  and  Prelates  to  your  knees  ! 
Take  you  my  blessing,  'tis  my  latest  hour !  [all  kneel. 

■    All  ye  who  have  been  true  to  Holy  Church. 

:.    Take  my  last  blessing.    All  who  have  been  false. 

Take  ye  my —  Catherine  !  Catherine  !  O  my  God  !     {Dies.) 

6  ^  [C 14  r  tain 


■:<■■} : 


.■•<!,